The Watchers: A Space Opera Novella Read Free

precedent of responding to a pressing need that could then one day be used as an argument for Watching our own Universe in an emergency. I will not have it.”
    But to know our origins. And the dirty history was we have Watched our own Universe before when the Watch was severely threatened.
    She looks at me, she knows me too well. She’s trained me since I first became an acolyte when I was eleven. “Still, Emre? You still wonder?”
    I lower my eyes in shame; it’s unbecoming of a Watcher to still dwell on such things. But then, I’m barely a Watcher, only raised due to my increasing age and Joslyn’s influence. Even at twenty-five, I still have to take lessons from Joslyn, the only Watcher to ever have to do that after being raised.
    She gives a deep sigh and moves to the viewing port. “Leave me, Emre. I wish to think this over. We will speak of this in the morning. And tell Acolyte Renya she is to report to Plele for punishment for disobeying my orders and that I will ask Plele of it the next time I see him.”

CHAPTER TWO
    BY MORNING JOSLYN is no longer on Watch Station, along with most of the other members of the Directorate—dereliction of duty, refusal to execute the purpose of the Watch: to Watch the Ancillary Universe. The Ambassador and Regent are bolder than I thought.
    The Regent himself is now addressing the rest of us Watchers and Acolytes in the main auditorium. He stands in the center, dressed in his ceremonial cream-colored robes, his grave face hidden behind a well-kept chestnut beard that adds to the solemn air. Two Regency Investigative Unit (RIU) agents stand at each end of the raised platform, and there’s more than one unfamiliar face scattered in the crowd. It strikes me as stupid—don’t they know how small we are? How few of us there actually are that can Watch? How we all know each other? I understand the need for positioning people for potential crowd control, but why try and blend in? We all know they’re plants.
    The Regent speaks in a quiet voice, his words heavy with meaning and inflection. He uses his hands to emphasize his words, to show his passion, but he keeps his head slightly bowed to show his reluctance—a very effective speaker.
    He speaks of the danger to the Regency of such DNA profiling legislation. The disgust of denying people their free will—I think most of us Watchers work to contain a snort at that, thinking of the Directorate currently held against their will. He raises his voice in quiet passion to derail such efforts in Congress, to provide hard evidence of the foolishness of such a motion, that the legislation on Evaga presents a unique opportunity that is within the bounds of the Watchers. He details all of the Atainun tragedy—an entire settlement wiped out from slow suffocation. The brutality caught on all kinds of security feeds—and soon to be leaked for political gain by the proponents of the DNA profiling legislation to generate momentum. He finishes by asking for our support, his arms open to his sides.
    Silence settles over the auditorium, not even small coughs, or people fidgeting can be heard. The air tastes charged to me, palpable with possibilities, the potential for violence swirling in the air, waiting to coalesce.
    Teren, a newly raised Watcher with broad shoulders and of medium height, stands up near the front off to the right. All eyes are upon him. “It is an unusual request you ask of us, Regent. One that might have held more weight with the backing of the Directorate. What have you done with them?” He remains standing.
    “I truly regret the steps taken,” Regent Teife says. “I do not wish to hide anything from you. We asked this first to Watch Director Joslyn—she refused. We approached other members of the Directorate and were met similarly. This is too important to let an old lumbering tradition stand in the way. Nothing we’ve asked of you is in violation to your purpose. Your fellow Watchers are being held on Klast. They