"I say, Radford," Woodwick remarked, taking a sip from his drink, "you haven't touched your eggs Florentine."
Groen, a betting sheet for Mudderfield Downs spread out in front of him, didn't bother looking up.
"It has spinach in it," he complained.
"It's a positively divine Hollandaise sauce," Woodwick went on. "You should really try it, old man."
"Humph."
"Well, you're a grumpy goose this morning," Woodwick said. "Still suffering the after-effects of that Lotus business?"
Peering over the sheet, Groen shook his head. "No, that antidote injection did the trick."
"What is it then?"
"People keep staring at me," Groen replied, gesturing toward the various eyes cast in his direction.
"I should think so," Woodwick said. "The next emperor is a Groen after all!"
"Groen in name only."
"Humbug," Woodwick said, his mustache twitching. "He's your nephew! You should be quite chuffed."
"I could do without all the attention," Groen said. "Anyway, how is your niece these days?"
"Dreadful, I'm afraid,” Woodwick said. “Candy's been heartbroken since Devlin broke it off with her."
"Can you blame him?" Groen asked.
From his overly stuffed belly, Woodwick exhaled. "No, I blame you for it!"
"Me?"
"Of course!" Woodwick replied. "You know jolly well you're the one who took her to the horse track."
"She said she liked horses!" Groen replied.
"But that doesn't mean she had to bet on them!"
"Well, I can't be responsible for everything."
"Thank heavens you didn't give her those Lotus petals."
"No, of course not!" Groen replied.
"Not that you seemed willing to share..."
"That's over and done with," Groen said. "Last I heard you can't get them anymore even if you wanted to. The supply has completely dried up..."
"Strange that, don't you think?"
Groen turned his attention back to the betting sheet without answering.
Woodwick waited until his patience wore thin. "I say, Radford, are you going to finish your eggs or not?"
"No!"
Woodwick leaned over the table and grabbed Groen's plate. With a silver fork, he dug into the eggs Florentine, yellow sauce dripping from his walrus mustache.
"Delicious!" he said.
Outside of Jollux's mansion, the sound of gunshots and blaster fire rattled the metal scaffolding, now empty of the workers who had been refurbishing the old house. Although the laborers had grown accustomed to the shady comings and goings on the mansion grounds, the fighting in the nearby neighborhood had grown too close for the workers to bear.
Like sleet, bullets sprayed the dome in the backyard, cracking the glass and sending shards falling into the hothouse. Jollux used a palm frond to shield himself from the debris.
"What's happening?" he cried helplessly.
"Big G's forces are closing in," his burly butler replied. "There's Si-Sawat goons all over the place!"
"But what about my mercenaries?" Jollux asked.
"Gone."
"What do you mean?"
"They left!" the butler said.
"But we had a deal!" Jollux shouted. "What about those two police detectives?"
"They haven't returned my calls since Martel shot them."
"Cowards," Jollux remarked. "Try reaching them again. I'm not paying those idiots to ignore me!"
The muscular butler departed, followed almost immediately by the rapid fire of a gun from the same corridor. Nearly falling off his bench, Jollux stared down the dark hallway. Out of the gloom, a Tikarin with orange fur strolled casually into the hothouse, resting a submachine gun on his hefty belly. Another gangster, his left arm in a sling, followed behind.
"So, it really was you, Jollux!" Big G said. "I never would've thought a small-timer like you could have pulled it off."
"But I told you," the other one protested.
"I know, Max," Big G replied. "I know."
"What did you do to my butler?" Jollux asked.
"You're going to need another one of those..." Big G replied with a sneer. He surveyed the broken glass and bent vegetation, the dome above riddled with bullet holes. "Well, well," he said. "I guess the shoe is on the other foot."
"I don't wear shoes."
"Never mind!" Big G shouted, waving the submachine gun. "Any last words, Jollux?"
Jollux steepled his long fingers.
"You're the owner of the largest casino in Ashetown," he said, "and I'm a loan shark owed millions by wealthy nobles for their gambling debts. I don't see why we couldn't combine our resources together."
"And sweep all this ugliness under the rug?" Big G replied, considering the proposal.
"Yes."
A devilish grin appeared on Big G's face.
"I don’t think so,” he said, pulling the trigger on the submachine gun. In a cloud of acrid smoke, Jollux rolled backwards off his bench, bullet holes in the center of his chest. He lay dead among his precious plants.
“Why’d you do that, boss?” Max asked.
“There can only be one big fish in this pond,” Big G replied, pleased with his response.
Max stared blankly.
“Anyway...” Big G said with a sigh, “go tell the boys that the drinks are on me tonight!”
"You got it, boss," Max replied.
"But just the first two drinks," Big G said. "Let's not go crazy..."
At the end of the day, the business district of Regalis began to wind down as the shadows of skyscrapers stretched across the busy streets. Office workers poured out of the buildings, eager to get home, even if their home was nothing more than a wildly overpriced studio apartment.
Martel sat on a park bench, ignoring the pigeons while counting the worker drones shuffling by. A woman with red hair, wearing a lab coat, stopped and sat down beside him. Martel didn't like the smug grin on her face.
"I guess you think I should thank you?" the detective asked.
"It seems appropriate under the circumstances," Doctor Sprouse replied. "Did you read my little note?"
Martel pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
"For Martel," he read, "from a friend."
"I thought the friend part was a nice touch..."
"Cute," he remarked.
Sprouse turned her critical eyes on him. "Come now, Thomas, I saved your life!"
"I should've stayed in a coma," he replied. "I could've used the sleep."
The doctor crossed her arms with a grunt.
"It seems funny how quickly you came up with an antidote," Martel continued. "Almost like you were working on it beforehand."
"Well, you brought me a sample, didn't you?" she replied.
"No, I mean before that."
Sprouse gazed around at the people passing by. "You're not wearing a wire, are you?"
"Not at the moment," Martel said.
"It doesn't matter anyway," she went on. "Warlock Industries is untouchable even if you were."
"Warlock was responsible for Lotus all along, wasn’t it?" Martel asked.
"For a long time, I've had an idea for weaponizing chem addiction," she replied. "The hard part was getting a big enough sample size to see if it's effective."
"So, you decided to use the general population as your guinea pigs?"
"Something like that."
"You're a monster," Martel said.
"Don't be crass," Sprouse replied. "It's all in the name of science..."
"And to make sure Lotus spread as effectively as possible, you hired Jollux to do your dirty work."
"We didn't so much hire him as help facilitate his rise in the community."
"Those mercs that were acting as his muscle..." Martel started.
"Warlock paramilitary forces," Sprouse said. "It was also an opportunity for them to learn asymmetrical, urban warfare tactics. I'm sure the training will come in handy down the road...
"
"You gave Jollux the chems and the forces to make sure he'd spread Lotus far and wide," Martel said. "But then you withdrew both. Why?"
"The experiment was over," Sprouse said with a casual shrug. "Jollux was no longer needed."
"That's cold."
The doctor stood up and began to leave.
"And then there's the antidote," Martel continued.
Sprouse stopped and sat back down again. "Yes?"
"The government bought millions of doses," the detective said.
"Yes?" Sprouse asked again.
"Sounds lucrative."
Sprouse rolled her eyes. "You really are a detective, aren't you!”
"It just seems to me that the antidote is where the money is, not the original chems."
"If you must know," Sprouse said, "the Warlock board wasn't entirely sold on the idea of weaponizing Lotus, so I suggested we also sell the cure."
"And they agreed to that?"
"They ate it up!" Sprouse said with a hint of pride. "They even gave me a new lab."
Now it was Martel's turn to stand.
"What do you intend to do with this information?" the doctor asked him.
"What can I do?" he replied. "Like you said, Warlock Industries is untouchable."
"You could shoot me?" she suggested, practically daring him. "Get revenge for all those I've hurt?"
Martel reached into his coat, his fingers touching the cold metal of Maxwell.
"I could," Martel said, removing his hand and letting it fall to his side. "But I won't."
"Why?" Sprouse asked, genuinely curious.
"Because it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference," Martel replied and walked away into the darkening twilight.
Outside the Regalis city limits, Lefty Lucy and her adopted son, Roland, sat at a low table in the middle of a floor covered by tatami mats. From a porcelain teapot, Lucy poured tea into three small cups, offering one of the cups to a woman also sitting at the table. Lady Veber took the tea while attempting to stuff the rest of her dress under the table, producing a billowing canopy of light blue taffeta.
“Thank you,” Lady Veber said.
Her face revealing nothing, Lucy handed a cup to Roland, though most of the public knew him better as Jack Groen.
“It’s good to be back home,” he admitted. “It feels like I’ve been sleepwalking lately...”
Lady Veber patted him on the leg. “Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll take good care of you.” Seeing a muscle around Lucy’s eye twitching, Lady Veber commented on the decor, “This is such a lovely home. Sparse, but functional.”
Lucy raised her cup, but her eyes remained locked on Lady Veber who laughed uncomfortably.
“As the Imperial Regent,” Lady Veber went on, “I want to assure you that I will do everything in my power to protect your son. The palace can be a treacherous place at times, but it’s where he belongs.”
“Well,” Jack said, “it’s been a lot to get used to. I’m still not sure this was a good idea...”
Lady Veber gave him a reassuring smile.
“You’re from one of the Five Families, Jack,” she said. “It’s your birthright.”
“But you could have at least asked me before you nominated me for emperor,” he replied, to which Lucy nearly dropped her cup.
“You didn’t know?” Jack asked her.
His foster mother cleared her throat but said nothing.
“I should probably apologize,” Lady Veber said, “to both of you, but it’s important, Jack, that you realize what a tremendous opportunity this is. The thought of Tagus or even Prince Richard becoming emperor was more than I could bear.”
Lucy glared.
“I think my mother is saying it wasn’t your decision to make,” Jack said.
“Perhaps,” Lady Veber replied, “but someone had to. The Imperium teetered between the iron fist of Rupert Tagus and the dynastic ambitions of Richard Augustus. I did what I thought was right...”
They sat in awkward silence until Jack spoke.
“It’s pretty incredible if you think about it,” he said with a grin. “I’m going to be emperor!”
Lady Veber laughed. “Yes, you are!”
Lucy’s expression softened and she poured more tea into Lady Veber’s cup.
“And with any luck,” Lady Veber said after taking a sip, “you won’t get assassinated!”
Jack coughed a little of his tea back into the cup.
“Wait, what?” he asked.
For the continuing saga of the Imperium Chronicles, watch for the next volume in the series, The Elves of Andromeda.
Character List
Augustus, Emperor Hector: Patriarch of the Augustus family and current emperor of the Imperium.
Augustus, Lady Lilith: Wife of Prince Richard Augustus.
Augustus, Mason: Baby son of Prince Richard and Lady Lilith Augustus.
Augustus, Prince Alexander: Son of the Emperor and black sheep of the Augustus family.
Augustus, Prince Richard: First son of Emperor Augustus.
Benson: Butlerbot of Lord Devlin Maycare. Replaced the previous robot, Bentley, after he was destroyed.
Black, Magnus: A mysterious hitman with ties to both Imperial Intelligence and criminal syndicates.
Burke, Harold: Former attaché to Lord Tagus III. Deceased.
Burkebot (“Burke”): An execubot employed by Lord Tagus III. Named after Tagus’ former attaché, Harold Burke.
Crawley, Detective: An unscrupulous detective of the Regalis Police Department. Former partner of Thomas Martel.
Davenport, Eugene (“Ducky”): College friend of Lord Winsor Woodwick and Lord Radford Groen.
Demona, Ta: A ruthless agent for the Psi Lords who uses her abilities to collect information.
Dingus, Homicide Detective: Martel’s name for a detective on the Regalis P.D.
Dolores: A computer program serving as Thomas Martel’s secretary. Strong Long Island accent.
Doric, Jessica: Head of research for the Maycare Institute of Xeno Studies.
Flax, Sylvia: Famous news anchor for VOX News.
G, Big: Tikarin leader of the Si-Sawat crime syndicate and proprietor of the Fat Cat Casino.
Grayson, Lord: A sports rival of Lord Maycare.
Groen, Jack: Son of Lord Robert and Lady Josephine Groen.
Groen, Lady Josephine: Wife of Lord Robert Groen, killed along with her husband.
Groen, Lord Radford: An aristocrat often found gambling with life-long friend, Lord Woodwick.
Groen, Lord Robert: An important member of the Groen family, killed along with his wife.
Groen, Lord Vincent: Representative of the Groen family at the Imperial Conclave.
Hogug, Mayor: The Gordian mayor of Kurkslag and the boss of a criminal syndicate.
Ivanovich, Gregor: Boss of the Cyberpunks gang.
Jollux (“Gelatinous Bob”): Loan shark and chem lord.
Lucy, Lefty: Bodyguard to Prince Alexander and former member of the Red Lotus syndicate. Foster mother to Roland.
Martel, Detective Thomas: Private detective and former police detective in the Regalis PD. Former partner with Detective Crawley.
Maycare, Lord Devlin: Famous sportsman and playboy. Founder of the Maycare Institute of Xeno Studies.
Max: Tikarin enforcer for the Si-Sawat syndicate, and Big G’s right-hand man.
Montros, Lady Olivia: Representative of the Montros family at the Imperial Conclave.
Munge, Mister: Criminal enforcer for Kid Vicious.
O’Shea, Shady: Criminal contact of Thomas Martel.
Pitt: A mysterious man who first brought Roland to Lefty Lucy.
Red: Gordian bartender of the Sous-Sol.
Riff, Henry: Overly excitable assistant to Jessica Doric.
Rion, Louis: Cerulean owner of the Sous-Sol. Francophile.
Sprouse, Doctor: Geneticist working for Warlock Industries.
Roland: A teenager raised by Lefty Lucy.
Solan, Kanet:
High-ranking member of the Psi Lords.
Tagus II, Lord Rupert: Former patriarch of the Tagus family and father of Lord Tagus III. Deceased.
Tagus III, Lord Rupert: Recently pardoned exile and now patriarch of the Tagus family.
Veber, Lady Rebecca: Matriarch of the Veber family.
Veber, Philip: Lady Veber’s son. Deceased.
Vicious, Kid: Boss of the Griefer gang.
Ward: Gregor Ivanovich’s bodyguard.
Wingus, Homicide Detective: Martel’s name for a detective on the Regalis P.D.
Woodwick, Lady Candice (“Candy”): Niece of Lord Winsor Woodwick, and girlfriend of Lord Devlin Maycare.
Woodwick, Lord Winsor (“Winnie”): A noble of English descent and friend of Lord Radford Groen and Lord Devlin Maycare. Uncle of Lady Candice Woodwick.
Glossary
Acaz: Lord Devlin Maycare’s starship.
Aldorus: The home planet of the Imperial government.
Ashetown: A district of Regalis where the poorest of the city live.
Augmentor Sisterhood: A monastic sisterhood who worship technology, slowly adding cybernetic implants until they ascend to full robotic conversion. Found on the planet Technas Delphi.
Augustus: One of the Five Families, represented by a two-headed eagle.
Blood Ball: A violent sport similar to rugby played by non-humans.
Boneyards: An area of Ashetown where discarded machines and robots are dumped.
Boneyard Bruisers: A popular Blood Ball team.
braZos: The largest consumer mega-corporation in the Imperium, offering every product imaginable from its nodesphere site. Their boxes display a large letter Z on the side.
braZbots: Delivery robots for the braZos mega-corporation.
Cerulean: A race of blue-skinned mimics known for appropriating the characteristics of other races.
Chems: Street jargon for drugs.
Conclave, Imperial: A meeting of the Five Families to decide the next emperor.
Credit stick: A small storage device loaded with electronic currency.
Cyberpunks: An Ashetown street gang led by Gregor Ivanovich.
Dahl: An ancient race dedicated to the accumulation of knowledge. Physically slight, they coincidentally resemble elves of human folklore. Several sub-species of Dahl exist in Andromeda.
Dark Psi: A school of psionics, outlawed by the Dahl, that can transform flesh and reanimate dead tissue.
The Dreams of Andromeda (The Imperium Chronicles Book 4) Page 18
