In the Empire (1)

Chapter Summary: A few events during Caesar Ganymede's imprisonment in the Empire. The political situation after the destruction of the Earth Republic Alliance.

Volume VI: In the Empire

When I awoke, it was the dead of night outside. The bed beside me was empty; the Emperor was gone. The matter to be dealt with after the announcement of Caesar Ganemed's "accidental death" was far more numerous than the Emperor had anticipated. Even a year later, he was still being chased by the aftermath of this affair. Last time, the remnants of the 14th Fleet, representing the newly formed Earth Republic Alliance government (the previous Alliance government, led by Estravan, had ended, and its territory had been incorporated into the Empire), requested Emperor Gratian to "return the remains of Colonel Caesar Ganemed." The message was relayed to the Emperor by Caligula.

Emperor Gratian, his voice laced with anger, asked, "What do they want to do? And what do you want to do?"

Caligula placed his right palm on his left chest, bowed, and said, “Your Majesty, the newly formed pseudo-Alliance government desires a just cause for national subjugation, and therefore needs Caesar Ganymed, a former Alliance hero and the only military genius capable of directly confronting you, as a symbol to unite their faith. They clearly doubt that Ganymed is still alive. Such doubt is extremely detrimental to the Empire, which has just destroyed the Alliance and is about to complete the unification of the entire galaxy. The pseudo-government's only remaining military force is the 14th Fleet. I believe that Caesar Ganymed must be killed, and his remains used to negotiate with the people of the 14th Fleet.”

It is said that the emperor stood up and berated Caligula that day, and afterwards he was so angry that he couldn't even sit down.

Gratian had a fever that night and came to me. I arranged a bed for him and slept on the sofa myself. He hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping himself. I knew he wanted to sleep with me, but my answer was always "no." He was indeed feeling unwell, his face flushed, so unusually, he didn't force me or argue about who slept in the bed or on the sofa. He wrapped himself in his blanket and went to sleep. The next day, he still had a fever, and I was a little frightened when a little red-haired boy knocked on my door. A little white angel.

"Who are you?" I asked.

“His Majesty has been having frequent fevers lately. We need to collect more blood samples for testing. It’s strange, his vital signs are perfectly healthy.” The little boy pulled out a syringe. Gratian struggled violently. I pushed the boy away and made him give me the needle.

"Oh, but do you know how to draw blood?"

"Why does he insist on having his blood drawn?" I stammered. "Uh, I mean, I don't want to see him get pricked with a needle; it looks painful..."

“My name is Octavian,” the boy said, his short red hair shimmering like wine or blood under the light. “I’ve heard His Majesty mention you. Caesar Garnimed, it is you who has caused His Majesty such pain.”

"His Majesty used to only have occasional fevers. Now, he gets sick every time he leaves your place."

"Do you know what your Emperor did to me?"

“He raped you.” Octavian shrugged, and taking advantage of Gratian’s brief sobs in his sleep, quickly inserted the needle into his vein. “To be honest, why don’t you just open your legs willingly? His Majesty loves you. He will treat you gently.”

That's what Octavian said.

“His Majesty is young and energetic. And perhaps, he has some rather secretive hobbies,” Caligula said after a moment’s thought as he bumped into me in the corridor.

Gratian has been very busy these past few days (of course, no matter how busy he is, he hasn't forgotten to come and bother me every night), so it's surprising that the head of the intelligence bureau is so free; usually, he always takes advantage of his work breaks to find every opportunity to get close to the emperor, as if he wants to stick to him.

I looked at myself. I was wearing a loose-fitting bathrobe, the front half open, revealing flesh-white skin with bloody marks from whipping and fingernails digging in, bluish-purple and reddish; I wasn't wearing shoes.

Caligula looked concerned and said, "Zeus is not like Heysen; it's windy and humid here, and it gets chilly at night. You should wear more clothes when you come out. Are you looking for His Majesty? He is in the council chamber."

"Oh." I turned around, intending to go back and change my clothes; the moonlight was clear tonight. I was a little hungry and thought I'd go downstairs to the kitchen to cook something. Just as the door closed, I was stopped; Caligula's hand was caught in the gap. He seemed to have something to say to me.

“Generally speaking, it’s not convenient for me to appear in the council chamber. After all, in the propaganda of both the Alliance and the Empire, I’m portrayed as a dead man,” I said.

There were strange rumors that after I was taken in by the emperor, Gratian and Caligula's relationship had become noticeably distant, no longer as close as before, or like that of a fanatical worshipper and his god. I was somewhat skeptical, but at least I didn't see any estrangement between Gratian and Caligula.

Currently, only a handful of top-ranking generals within the empire know that I am still alive. They are the emperor's confidants.

"We advised Your Majesty that you should not have forcibly detained the peace negotiators sent by the Allies and then faked the plane crash of the ship on which you were sent as a peace negotiator. Your political significance for peace between the two sides far outweighed your practical significance, but Your Majesty destroyed this symbol with your own hands. I think you should know that His Majesty just attended your funeral last week and delivered a solemn eulogy."

"I don't understand why you're telling me this."

"In your mind, I despise you."

"Yes."

“I think you are an interesting person, my dear...father.”

"Don't do this." I forced back my dizziness and nausea. "This is too much. Caligula, stop pretending, at least in front of me. I think I'm your adoptive father, I watched you grow up, I know you."

“I’m serious,” Caligula said.

"Why don't you run away? What are you waiting for? Or have you fallen in love with him after being his slave in bed?"

“You’re overthinking it. If I have the chance, of course I will…” I stopped, remembering that the person in front of me was an intelligence officer.

Perhaps every word he says has a purpose.

"General Ganymede, are you referring to the spies planted by the 14th Fleet in Zeus? Each of them is equipped with a miniature antimatter bomb, ready to sacrifice themselves to launch a terrorist attack on Zeus if the mission fails and you cannot be rescued."

"You know?"

Caligula smiled faintly, "I know. You know. His Majesty the Emperor will certainly know soon as well."

"Participants include: Jun Yeyuan, all members of the 14th Fleet's assault team, and oh, and a high-ranking inside man, His Excellency Estravan, the former Chairman of the Supreme Council of the Earth Republic Alliance, who is currently the Director of the 'Alliance Provisional Affairs Bureau' under the Galactic Empire."

My robe was soaked with cold sweat. "What do you want?"

"His Majesty would naturally not know about this. They are just some insignificant rats in the gutter, not worth his attention. But the condition is that you, as their mastermind; please forgive me, although they acted on their own initiative, their slogan was to rescue you; you need to pay the corresponding reward as a condition for me to keep your secret, not to the Empire, but to me personally."

He asked me to have sex with him.

I refused without even thinking about it.

"Hmm, so you're saying you're planning to abandon your mission to penetrate deep into enemy territory and risk all dangers to rescue your comrades?"

"The 14th Fleet is not as weak as you think."

"But you are creating a very dangerous situation for them."

I laughed. "I'm not that cheap, Caligula."

"Besides, I have faith in Ye Yuanjun and the others' abilities."

Caligula said he had something to show me. I refused, but he immediately said it was Gratian's idea. I didn't think much of it and followed him to his place, only to realize I'd been tricked. As I walked back, Caligula said, "Since you're here, sit down and have something to eat."

He even knew my current taste: steaming hot black tea, not coffee. The ruby-red tea was crystal clear and enticing, like agate served in a white jade saucer. I couldn't resist and sat down in his reception room. Caligula's house was luxurious. Marble and black tiles neatly separated the modern space from the collection of antique paintings. On one side was a restrained and cold, geometrically matrix-like office and reception area, with the ethereal shadow of artificial intelligence floating above my head. On the other side was a classic wooden building filled with natural scenery, with solid mahogany floors planted with fig trees and citrus plants. Outside, sculptures, murals, and various relics from ancient civilizations were hidden among green leaves and flowers. Large banana leaves hung down. Looking out, I saw a magnificent Mayan pyramid standing tall in the rainforest, completely transplanted from Central and South America.

I was stunned, especially when I saw that the roof of the little wooden house was planted with subarctic coniferous forest, and above that, ice field moss. I began to wonder how the climate regulator in this building worked, and what kind of sophisticated artificial intelligence could have such precise and powerful calculation and resource allocation capabilities. Caligula loved his house very much; it encompassed all the representative landscapes from the tropics to the polar regions, and he had put a lot of effort into maintaining it. However, I vaguely sensed a very familiar feeling in this design style.

"His Majesty gave this to me. However, he found it troublesome and felt that these landscapes were only for looking at and not practical at all, so he also gave me the house he had built with his own money. I think that although he said it was a gift, he was somewhat reluctant to part with it."

Sure enough. Caligula himself preferred the modern part, the geometrically cut and arranged space—clean, refreshing, and abstract. I found many things left behind by women in his house; Caligula didn't seem like someone who had a girlfriend at all, so it must have been casual lovers. And probably quite a few. But he kept it very tidy. A bottle of pear and freesia perfume from a certain brand (I really don't recognize the perfume brand) sat on the cabinet to my right, and I stared at its slender rectangular glass jar in a daze.

He brought out a plate of cold dishes: burrata, slices of prosciutto, and leftover salted bread. "Would you like some? I'm sorry, I've been busy all day and haven't had dinner yet."

I shook my head and said no.

So he said, "Wait a moment. I'll be right there."

I pondered why he had brought me to his house. It certainly wasn't just for tea and a meal. I tried to find a trace of delaying tactics or cunning on Caligula's face as he ate; nothing. He was simply eating, leaving me to my own devices. What was infuriating was that I'd never seen anyone eat cheese and vegetables with such "elegance" before; a gleaming silver knife lightly sliced ​​across the white porcelain plate, a milk bun broke, a fork poked at a piece of bread, and pure white brine butter was drizzled on top. The way he ate made me hungry. I stared at him, my gaze intense.

He was somewhat speechless and said, "General Ganimede, the way you are, I really have to wonder if His Majesty is even skimping on your food."

The imperial chefs might protest en masse. They had previously explained to the emperor that it was because I had no appetite, not because their food was bad or they hadn't put in the effort.

I said, "Hey. Do you have any leftovers? Could I have some?"

Caligula put down his knife and fork and went to the refrigerator to get some more food. I ate a little haphazardly, and the hunger I felt before leaving the house suddenly returned like a stomach cramp; the more I ate, the hungrier I became, and I sighed. Caligula waited until I had almost finished eating and didn't want to touch the utensils anymore. I noticed that he had looked up at some point and was staring intently at me.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you aware of the current situation in interstellar space? I mean, how much do you know about the news from the outside world?"

"Emperor Gratian unified the universe, incorporating the entire known civilized world into the Galactic Empire. This is the human space age—no, the most expansive and populous empire in human history. From our home planet Earth to beyond the distant Iliad Gate, from our solar system to extragalactic systems 15 billion light-years away, from Heyson to Zeus, from the center of civilization to the boundless wilderness, the complexities of time, space, objects, and all things will be erased by the artificially constructed imperial routes, unifying the stars. I never knew, nor could I have imagined, that anyone could actually accomplish this absurd dream," I said.

"Yes. His Majesty is building passageways throughout the star systems to facilitate the rapid movement of his army in the event of a rebellion."

"I know nothing about any rebellion."

“Of course, of course,” Caligula leaned back in his chair, “I’ve never even heard of a conspiracy. Isn’t that right?”

"Actually, I want to ask you, compared to His Majesty's great achievements, are you aware of your own current situation?"

I shrugged. "I died in a plane crash. On the way back to Hyperion from the Emperor's Odysseus after the peace talks were completed, the Alliance and the Empire accused each other of causing the death of the peace ambassador. The Emperor intervened and investigated, ultimately concluding that it was the work of terrorists; and that it was related to a religious group within the Alliance. This religious group had vehemently opposed the Empire's development of blasphemous genetic modification technology, and during the Seven Years' War between the Alliance and the Empire, it used its influence in political and business circles to continuously fund the pro-war faction within the Alliance."

"So you believe that His Majesty orchestrated your 'death'."

“Yes. Gratian wants to possess me. Isn’t that obvious?” I said.

I recently heard rumors that the Emperor is conducting a large-scale manhunt for members of the aforementioned religious groups throughout the Galactic Empire. "This is a win-win situation. Gratian has long disliked these devout believers. He believes they are cultists using the guise of God to oppose the Empire's rule."

He can use my death to help him clean up the domestic political environment.

"By the way, what was that sect called again? Domini, Dominican?"

"'Dominicus'."

Caligula answered for me: "The group's symbol is a rose. Their basic doctrine is that the Great Mother Goddess will eventually descend, destroy the present and order, and save humanity. I won't comment on the doctrine itself. However, based on the slogans they shout, the Emperor would surely grind them to dust."

"Um?"

Caligula smiled enigmatically. "The Church of the Rose believes that only Mother Earth is humanity's sole and eternal progenitor and ruler. How can the Galactic Empire, these barbarians among barbarians, and Emperor Glatian, this genetically modified human, these monsters among monsters, be worthy of being the mother of all humanity? Rather, in their doctrine, the Galactic Empire and His Majesty the Emperor are symbols of a kind of 'patriarchy,' which is exactly the opposite of the 'mother' symbolized by Earth."

“By the way,” he added, “how long has it been since you heard any news from the Alliance?”

"An alliance? After they hold my state funeral, they probably won't have any further thoughts about a dead man."

"What if I told you that some officials in the Alliance, just like some of the Empire's core generals, such as myself, knew that you were still alive?"

"A member of the 14th Fleet?" I said. "Yahara Jun doesn't believe I'm dead. She wants to see me alive or dead. That's her personality."

"But in any case, that 'plane crash,' or rather, 'terrorist attack,' has been confirmed."

Caligula pressed a letter onto the tabletop and pushed it towards me with his index finger. "Take a look?"

I glanced at him and opened the letter. It contained only a short passage: "We believe that if the alliance and the Empire's peace plan can be achieved by sacrificing one person, we gladly accept your proposal. We hope His Majesty the Emperor of the Galactic Empire will accept our humble gift: Caesar Ganymede. His life, body, and soul are all at the Empire's disposal, in order to please His Majesty."

The signatory at the end is noteworthy: Estravan, former Chairman of the Supreme Council of the Earth Republic Alliance.

"They know you're still alive. In fact, that 'plane crash,' that 'terrorist attack,' was orchestrated by Alliance politicians and the Empire. The Alliance wanted you, a figurehead of resistance, to quickly retire from the historical stage; the Imperial generals wanted you, a man of exceptional talent who posed a significant military threat, to become the Emperor's possession. As for our Emperor, good heavens, he truly loves you, so much so that upon hearing the Alliance's proposal, he was ecstatic, without considering the negative impact the fact that 'a peace ambassador from the Alliance never returned after boarding the Emperor's flagship' would have on the Empire's future rule. He disregarded all political interests, all possible criticism and accusations; at that moment, he was simply a man desperately wanting to possess the one he adored. Of course, the Alliance politicians, I, the Imperial generals, the people of interstellar space yearning for peace, and our Emperor—everyone—were laughing all the way to the bank. Except you, General Ganymede."

This reminds me of some things that happened after that decisive battle over Haiyingsen.

On the day I received the surrender order and prepared to board the Emperor's flagship, I took a short nap. Ye Yuanchun knocked on the door and called me, "Caesar, there are three hours left. Odysseus has sealed off all of Hyperion's escape routes."

I peered out the window at the deep, dark sea of ​​stars. The rest of the Imperial fleet had brought the 14th Fleet within range. The 14th Fleet's warships patrolled around Hyperion as usual, their guns locked on by the Imperial ships. They kept close to each other, then suddenly pulled away again. No one fired; both sides were enforcing some unwritten law in the silent darkness. Odysseus swept past the window; the Emperor was waiting for me.

I said, "Coming." I washed my hair, dried it, and walked to the fleet's conference room, where I found Estravan there. Hyperion has a set ceremony for welcoming high-ranking officials, but I noticed he wasn't accompanied by any attendants or bodyguards. The moment I pushed the door open, everyone else in the fleet turned to look at me.

"Uh...you guys don't need to look at me like I'm at a funeral, do you?"

"The Allied government is now heavily promoting your heroic image, calling you the 'savior of peace' and 'the hope of mankind'," Estravan said.

"They've been saying that all along, on the internet and in books and newspapers, haven't they?" I scratched my head, puzzled.

“That’s for the public to see. Now, similar views are being instilled within the government as well. Any content that talks about you behind your back but doesn’t conform to this theme will be censored.”

Have you seen anyone from the Alliance Council recently?

"Never seen it," I said. "But isn't it great that they've packaged me in such a virtuous, noble, and righteous way?"

“Oh no. This means you’re going to die.” Estravan said meaningfully, “Just like only the dead can be called ‘martyrs’.”

"I do not understand."

"Although only a few official accounts of your life and deeds are allowed to continue to circulate within the Allied powers, the real rumors cannot be suppressed. Especially in the well-informed parliament, where everyone has some inside information, government officials talk about you at banquets; they say you are going to be sacrificed, and that you yourself might be very happy. You love the Emperor, don't you? As a man, you love the boy you raised; a child who shared all the genes of your own brother. 'How disgusting.' — That's what they think of you now. Coincidentally, just as this opinion began to spread, you were to be sent to negotiate with the Emperor."

I recently met with members of Parliament and specifically requested the Emperor to postpone the negotiations; the Emperor granted my request.

“They made a promise to me,” I said.

"A promise? You believe the promises they made to you? How old are you, Caesar?"

"They are my friends. They are also your friends and colleagues."

"Some friends introduced through social gatherings of powerful families, or through connections such as my uncle's second uncle's students."

"But there are always some people among them who are genuinely for the benefit of the alliance and for the country."

“My dear Caesar, you are sometimes very clever, but most of the time your mind is too simple,”

Estravan shook his head. "Whether they are patriots or traitors, there is no place for you anymore. If you go, you will surely die."

"Impossible. At least Gratian wouldn't let me..."

"Have you already started pinning your hopes on the emperor of an enemy country?" Estravan finally said. "Very well. I won't stop you."

Later, I went to Odysseus to negotiate, but was imprisoned by the emperor. I remembered Estravian's words of advice before he left, and I was grateful for them. I thought he really meant well, and I had rejected his kindness, and now I was reaping the consequences.

The letter before me, signed by Estravan, plunged me back into a state of bewilderment; I had been betrayed, always betrayed by this man, even though I had always considered him my lifelong best friend. I forgave him, then he betrayed me, then I forgave him again, then he betrayed me again.

Estravan's warning that day wasn't well-intentioned, but a test. I was more inclined to trust the Emperor than him. So he began to implement his pre-arranged plan, using negotiations as a pretext to permanently bring me into the Empire's grasp, making me disappear from his and his allies' sight forever. His only pity for me was probably that I had co-starred with the Empire in a grand spectacle of a terrorist attack that led to the sinking of the starship, without actually doing anything, and then he took advantage of the chaos to kill me, shifting the blame onto the Empire, who had also participated in the performance.

I always felt that even if the allied politicians were shameless, there was at least one Estravan—a man of integrity and justice. Whatever Estravan did that contradicted my beliefs, he was simply fulfilling his duty and serving his country. I even admired him because he possessed a tenacious conviction that I lacked. And now? Do I hate him? I can't answer that. But perhaps the answer is still "no." I just feel sad.

In the history of the galaxy, the current Caesar Garnimed is a non-existent person.

——tbc——