Thirty Six Minutes

The average lifespan of the Imperator of the Interstellar is approximately eight point three years.

The average working lifespan of the Imperator of the Interstellar is approximately three years.

The record for the longest reigning Imperator of the Interstellar is five years held by Imperator Maximo Akundi the Excellent.

The record for the shortest reigning Imperator of the Interstellar is held by Imperator Augun Rocheli the Young, named thus for his stunning thirty-six minutes within the stasis cage of the High Seat.

Which left Seeker Tomei Zund in quite the predicament, given it was his job to locate the next Imperator of the Interstellar. Typically, the Seekers were given the entire lifespan of their current ruler to find his or her replacement. The search began the second the most recent Imperator was interred inside the cerebral fluid of the High Seat’s stasis cage. Nothing had changed this time around. The search had indeed begun the moment Augun Rocheli closed his eyes beneath the waves of his new home.

Where he proceeded to wake up and drown moments later.

The individual responsible for the adequate ventilation of the Imperator had been promptly executed and replaced in a beautiful show of bureaucracy cut short by necessity.

Now Seeker Tomei needed an heir to the most powerful empire the galaxy had ever known. A race considered omnipotent with a reach as great as the space between the stars.

The Interstellar sat leaderless. Defenseless. Vulnerable.

“Get me to the farms.” Tomei growled into his earpiece. He strode through set after set of locking double doors that scanned him as he approached. Satisfied with his embedded security clearance chip, the portals slashed open to allow him space to proceed. “Have a shuttle ready at the docks now.”

His robes rustled in his wake as he shoved workers and Throne employees aside mindlessly. He received a fair number of ill glances yet no one dared to challenge him. His position was known. It was suicide to confront a Seeker.

“Who knows?” Tomei asked. “Give me a number.”

Static crackled in his ear before a voice responded at last. “Only you, the other Seekers, and those present in the stasis chamber when the Imperator passed.”

Tomei rubbed his chin as he passed through yet another set of doors. “Were all of those present necessary for the functioning of the High Seat?”

More static. “Uh, no. It would appear that two maintenance-class members were present as well.”

Tomei’s eyes closed in momentary frustration. “Kill them. Send a stipend to their families. Make it generous and relocate them off-world.”

“Yes, Seeker.”

“Is my shuttle prepared?”

“Yes, Seeker.”

Tomei nodded in approval. At least something was working according to its proper parameters. A final set of doors opened before the Seeker to reveal the greyscale docks of the High Seat’s upper levels. Rain splattered on the ground as ships descended and ascended in perfect harmony. Every motion of every vessel was being carefully orchestrated by control teams atop their tall spires. Not every port worked as efficiently as this one. This port simply had the advantage of being attached to the heart of the Interstellar.

Twin purple moons in the night sky bestowed a lavender glow upon the surface. Combined with the rain and the gentle purr of Flexspace engines propelling spacecraft, it was almost peaceful.

Except Tomei Zund was not at peace. In fact, he was the antithesis of zen.

“Where the fuck is my shuttle?” Tomei bellowed into the air. His rage caused a few passersby to quicken their pace to avoid being verbally lashed by the Seeker should they accidentally catch his ire.

“Arriving now, sir.”

A suave black vessel built like an arrowhead descended upon the docks before Tomei. Several other spacecraft jittered in response to the irritating newcomer. It was going against the grain. Cutting in line. It was misbehaving.

They would have to get over it, Tomei thought to himself. He strode up to the slick vehicle and was permitted entry by a door that opened automatically at his approach. The interior of the small craft smelled of leather and old books. Artificially generated, of course. The Interstellar had run out of leather generations before.

“To the farms.” Tomei told the driverless shuttle. The Flexspace engine growled softly in response before the vessel peeled itself from the rain-slick docks to enter the atmosphere above the High Seat.

“Prepare a selection of heirs.” Tomei instructed the voice in his earpiece. “Only the most stalwart. They will need to overcome chaos upon submersion.”

“The Mothers are herding the Children now, Seeker.”

Tomei nodded, lips pursed and brow creased. His head ached as thoughts raced through his mind. His selection would need to be perfect. The Interstellar wouldn’t survive without an Imperator.

He glanced at his watch. Twelve minutes had passed since Augun had drowned. Such an event was unprecedented. He was unsure how long they could go before people started to notice the absence of the Omnipresent.

The shuttle peddled its way through the air. A nameless hand was pushing aside the ships in his path. Their captains were surely eyeing Tomei’s capsule with disdain. Such a lack of chivalry would be remembered amongst the posh population of the High Seat.

Tomei didn’t spare the captains of the luxury ships and cargo loaders a second thought. Soon, they would lose their Flexspace capabilities. Greater issues existed than the strict itinerary of some upper planet noble.

Tomei winced. He pictured burning ships tearing themselves apart mid Flexjump. The Interstellar would crumble and in its wake thousands of planetary colonies would be left to rot without an explanation as to why they had been abandoned.

He wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen. He would banish the apocalypse before it could be wrought upon humanity.

The shuttle began to slow. Tomei peered through his tinted viewport to witness an approaching series of buildings made of grey concrete.

Before the buildings stood two women dressed in immaculately pressed skirts with hair tied back in tight buns. Tomei ignored them. His eyes cared only for the three short figures ahead of the Mothers.

The shuttle landed and Tomei was quick to exit. He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes. Time was running out.

“Ages?” He called to the Mothers as he approached.

The three children all looked at him curiously. A mixture of fear and intrigue clouded their eyes. They were all clad in simple white robes.

One Mother cleared her throat. “Carter is four, Maura is six, and Reani is seven.”

The Seeker’s lil curled into a sneer. “They are old. This is all you could produce?”

The Mothers glanced at each other nervously. They shifted their weight as their own eyes found the ground at their feet.

“Yes, Seeker. The others are not ready. We have also undergone a recent cull-”

Tomei held up a hand. “Tell me about them.”

“Carter is unparalleled in logistical planning and tactical strategy. He would excel at expanding our borders.” The speaking Mother gestured towards the middle child. “Maura is the runt of the three. She does not stand out in any particular way. We simply needed to present a third candidate.”

Tomei cursed inwardly. He would need to look into the efficiency of the farms when this disaster had been sufficiently averted.

“And?” He asked, “What of the oldest?”

“Reani was our second choice when Augun ascended to Imperator. She carries all of the…Deceased Imperator’s qualities plus a cold lack of mercy that would make her a prime choice for coming to decisions others would hesitate to make.”

Tomei placed his tongue in his cheek. “Why was she disqualified?”

The Mothers coughed in unison. “Her age. The previous Seeker deemed that her poor prognosis for longevity after being interred in the High Seat outweighed her other qualities.”

The Seeker nodded. Then his choice was simple. “I will take Carter. Surname?”

“Carcerum, sir.”

Tomei clucked his tongue in approval. “Initiate Reani in the Mother program. Add Maura to the next cull.”

“Yes, Seeker.”

Tomei placed a firm hand on the back of the next Imperator of the Interstellar. The boy complied easily. He didn’t even appear disturbed about being exhumed from his studies at the farms so suddenly.

“You have been chosen for a very special job, young man.” Tomei explained. “Perhaps the most special job in the universe.”

Carter nodded. “I know.” He was guided into the shuttle by Tomei and found his seat easily. His confidence and steely cold gaze seemed out of place in the small body of someone so young.

Tomei took his seat and signaled for the shuttle to ascend. His watch ticked on his wrist. Twenty-five minutes. People would start to notice soon.

“What will you do?” Tomei asked. It was a broad question. He left it purposely vague.

“I think I’ll win.” Carter said after a moment’s thought. “A lot.”

The Seeker held back a smirk. He hoped the boy was right.

The shuttle weaved its way back to the High Seat. Tomei shifted in his seat impatiently. The boy needed to take his seat. Soon.

Thirty minutes.

Tomei nearly leaped from the shuttle as it landed before the heavily guarded doors leading to the center of the High Seat. He hefted Carter in his arms. The boy wasn’t combative yet his legs would not carry him at the speed at which the Seeker required.

The doors parted before him. Several employees bowed low as Tomei sped by. Carter gazed at them, satisfied.

They entered the chamber of the High Seat to be assailed by the rhythmic pounding of the heart of the Interstellar. The place thrummed with energy as if it were the very pulse of mankind itself. In a sense, it was.

Steel cables and tubing roped their ways through the room. It smelled of grease and smoke and sweat. The heat was nearly unbearable. Workers hustled to prepare the High Seat for its new occupant. Steam whistled as pistons pumped with renewed vigor. It was as if the place knew its champion had arrived.

Tomei climbed a set of stairs which led to the top of the High Seat. A manhole, open in anticipation, lay embedded in the central machine a few paces away. Synthetic cerebral fluid lapped at the edges of the portal.

Workers bustled about Carter. They plugged him into ports and stripped him of his clothes. After some time, they departed.

Tomei squeezed Carter’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Carter nodded. He couldn’t speak. He had too many tubes running from his mouth.

The Seeker hefted the boy once more and set him into the water where the manhole opened. The weights tied about the boy's ankles dragged him beneath the depths.

Tomei closed and locked the heart of the Interstellar behind Carter Carcerum. He peered through the viewport of the manhole. A face looked back at him from several feet below the surface. A frozen image hidden beneath glass and waves.

It was almost picturesque. Almost.

Tomei stood and cleared his throat. He glanced at his watch a final time. Thirty-six minutes. It had taken as long as Augun’s reign to find his replacement.

“All hail Carter Carcerum, Imperator of the Interstellar!”

The workers in the High Seat cheered back. Below their feet a boy made king explored the reaches of mankind while the locked heart of the Interstellar beat on.