The Empire's Corps: Book 03 - When The Bough Breaks

by Christopher Nuttall

  Belinda wasn't impressed. Much of Earth’s surface was covered with cities; keeping them all under control would be an impossible task. Hell, the Civil Guard didn't even try. But if the Grand Senate was bringing in more security officers ... she couldn't understand what they were planning to achieve. It might well be better, in the long run, to allow Earth to implode – after moving as much as they could off the planet. Earth had become a black hole, sucking in the Empire’s resources ...

  But billions of people would die, she told herself, angrily.

  On the other hand, she couldn't see the Grand Senate worrying overlong about mass slaughter. They’d ordered atrocities before ...

  Her implant buzzed. “Colonel Lawson, we have a request from the Grand Senate,” the dispatcher said. “Grand Senator Onge wishes to meet with Prince Roland.”

  “Clear him for passage through the security network,” Belinda ordered, as she stood up. The Prince wasn't being given a choice. He had to see the Grand Senator. “And make damn sure that you give him a full check before allowing him to enter the Palace.”

  Roland was in the next room, running through a series of exercises that Belinda had taught him. It wouldn't be long, she decided, before he could take the exercises to the next level; she’d already taught him how to shoot in the Palace’s shooting range. Given time, he might have made a good soldier, even if it was unlikely he would ever have the discipline to become a Marine. The legacy of a childhood filled with luxury and indulgence would never fully fade away.

  “Grand Senator Onge is coming to see you,” Belinda said. “Are you ready to meet him?”

  “Not really,” Roland said, standing up. Sweat was trickling down his face, glistening as it caught the light. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”

  “Not really,” Belinda pointed out. She checked her implants and discovered that the Senator would be visiting in less than an hour. “Go shower, then get into your formal robes. You may as well look the part.”

  Roland gave her an odd look. “Are you all right?”

  “The plan to get you some Marine bodyguards fell through,” Belinda admitted. She briefly outlined what the Grand Senate had ordered – and her own puzzlement. Their decision didn't seem to make any sense and, as she’d been taught in Pathfinder School, that suggested that there was something she didn't know. Just because a decision made no sense to her didn't mean that the person who’d taken it didn't know what they were doing. “I'm trying to find you some retired Marines to serve as additional bodyguards.”

  “Oh,” Roland said. He scowled thoughtfully, then changed the subject. “Does the Grand Senator know about you?”

  Belinda honestly didn't know. In theory, only a handful of people knew that she wasn't just Roland’s aide – or at least that had been true, before she’d had to assert her authority. She was reasonably sure that neither Hicks nor Singh had bitched to their patrons about her, but it was quite possible that one of their subordinates also had political patrons. The habits of a lifetime – including sharing sensitive information with their political superiors – might not be broken by graphic threats, even from a Marine Pathfinder.

  The Grand Senator shouldn’t know. But that didn't mean that he didn't know.

  “Maybe,” she said, finally. She’d just have to monitor the Grand Senator carefully and attempt to determine the truth. “Go shower. We’ll find out in an hour.”

  ***

  Stephen refused to show any reaction as the Senate Security team scanned both him and Lindy before allowing them to enter the Summer Palace. Normally, he would have been annoyed at being poked and prodded by the staff, but he had to admit that they had good reason to be on their toes. Twelve of their comrades had died, barely a day ago, and that would be enough to alarm anyone, even a security team that had been allowed to grow lax.

  The Prince’s new aide met them as soon as they were cleared by the security team. She was beautiful, Stephen had to admit, and seemed made of stronger stuff than the last few aides the Prince had gone through. Long blonde hair framed a perfect face and hung down over a tight shirt and a short skirt that revealed a pair of excellent legs. It might have been the product of the body-shops, Stephen reminded himself, but even so he had to admire the Prince’s taste. He too had chosen his aides for looks, once upon a time.

  “His Highness is waiting for you,” the aide said. “If you will come with me, Honoured Senator ...”

  Stephen allowed her to lead him up the stairs and into the Prince’s reception room, where Prince Roland sat on a small throne. The Grand Senate was not impressed by outward displays of power – they knew too much to mistake them for reality – but Stephen felt a cold chill as he realised that Prince Roland looked far more composed than he had expected. It had been months since he’d last met the Prince, yet the change was staggering. The Prince actually looked healthy.

  He scowled inwardly as he bowed formally to the Prince. Roland had been carefully isolated from the levers of power almost as soon as he had been orphaned and brought up in the Summer Palace. No single Grand Senator had been able to gain and exercise power over the Prince – too much was at stake for the others to allow it – so Roland had effectively been left to drift. It had seemed the best solution at the time; a Prince whose only interest was pleasuring himself was unlikely to upset the apple cart. And Roland had shown no signs of growing up into someone who could use his formal position to build a power base of his own.

  Now, however ... he looked healthier and more determined than anyone had expected. Stephen had heard vague reports, but they hadn't troubled him; in hindsight, perhaps he should have taken a closer look at the young man. Roland had deliberately been kept ignorant and yet ... as he looked at the Prince, he thought he saw a certain comprehension in his eyes that had been lacking the last time they’d met.

  “Your Highness,” he said. “I speak on behalf of the Grand Senate.”

  “We welcome you,” Roland said, in a clear and formal tone. “Your service is appreciated by Us.”

  Stephen bit down the anger that threatened to overwhelm him. The Empire was poised on the brink between apotheosis and nemesis and this young fop dared to take that tone to him? Roland had been sitting in his palace, wasting away, while Stephen had been making his preparations for one final gambit to save the Empire. If Roland hadn't been part of his plan, Stephen would have stormed out and ensured that the next set of assassins would have succeeded. The Prince was useless for anything, apart from rubber-stamping decrees.

  And once he had served his purpose, he would be eliminated.

  “The Grand Senate has passed Emergency Bill #23,” Stephen said. In over three thousand years only seventy emergency bills had been proposed – and only twenty-two had ever been approved. There were literally millions of standard bills, but emergency bills came into effect as soon as the Emperor stamped them into law. “We request that you place your signature to the bill.”

  The Prince’s aide came forward and passed him a datapad. There was a long moment as the Prince scanned the bill, his lips moving as he sounded out some of the longer words. One definite advantage emergency bills had was that they were short, concise and sweeping; a standard bill could be longer than a small novel and read in their entirety by very few people. The old Roland wouldn't have asked questioned, Stephen knew, but the new one ... he kept his thoughts and feelings under tight control. There was no time to do anything about the Prince now.

  “Interesting,” Roland said, finally.

  Stephen would have rolled his eyes, if he’d felt like it. Was interesting all the Prince could say? But then, he probably didn't understand what he was reading, even if the language was clear and blunt. A state of emergency would be declared, a three-man emergency committee would handle law enforcement operations on Earth, the Marines would leave the planet, food and drink prices would be frozen, normal legal rights would be suspended ... and Stephen, as the leader of the emergency committee, would be in place to tighten his grip on pow
er. It was a coup, to all intents and purposes, and it was perfectly legal.

  “We have no choice but to sign,” Roland said, grandly. “However, We must also caution you. Our homeworld is in an unstable state. We do not wish to see it become another Han.”

  “We will take control to prevent that from happening,” Stephen assured him. One day, he promised himself, he would no longer need Roland. And then the Prince could be eliminated. “Our goal is to prevent the complete collapse of law and order.”

  There was a long pause. Roland eyed him, then nodded slowly and pressed his thumbprint against the datapad.

  “Thank you,” Stephen said. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Roland had refused to grant his assent. It wasn't needed, technically speaking, but some legalistic asshole would probably have made a fuss. For the moment, the Grand Senate was following him, yet that wouldn't last. The smart ones wouldn't be blind to how much power they’d placed in his hands. “There is, however, another issue that needs to be raised with you.”

  Roland lifted a single eyebrow, politely.

  “You are alone,” Stephen said. “The next person in line to the Throne has only a vague claim – and it could be contested. Beyond him, there are seven people with roughly equal claims, all of whom could be used by different factions to tear the Empire apart. It is the wish of the Grand Senate that you marry and produce children.”

  The Prince looked shaken. No doubt he enjoyed his affair with his aide and wouldn't want to sacrifice it for married life. Not that he had to remain faithful to his wife, once she had given birth to two sons. There were no shortage of Imperial bastards out there, all officially disinherited from taking the Throne. They tended to be given a lump sum and told to go make their fortune along the Rim.

  “We have selected you a bride,” Stephen continued. “The Honourable Lily of House Sapphire is of good bloodline and in excellent health. You should have no difficulty in producing heirs with her.”

  Lily Sapphire had other advantages, Stephen knew. She wasn't a close relation to any of the Grand Senators, so the balance of power wouldn't be badly affected. But her family did have close ties to Stephen, which was at least partly why he’d put her name forward. She could be relied upon to follow her father’s lead – and her father knew which side of the bread Stephen had buttered for him. He would do what he was told.

  Roland looked shaken. “She wants to marry me?”

  Stephen grinned at him, noticing that the Prince had slipped into first-person. “Who wouldn't want to marry a handsome Prince?”

  It didn't matter what Lily thought. Her marriage had been arranged by the Grand Senate; if she’d refused to undergo the ceremony, she would be disinherited and thrown out of the upper class. A few days in the Undercity would teach her better manners, assuming she survived. Like most of the upper class children, she had been cosseted and pampered until she had mush between her ears. She was fertile, and she was pretty, and that was enough for the Grand Senate’s purposes.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Roland said, slowly. “I have never even met the girl.”

  “Don’t think too long,” Stephen advised. “Your Highness, these are troubled times for the Empire. Whatever we can do to distract the population from their woes must be done. A Royal Wedding may buy us enough time to save the Empire.

  “We shall also see to your security,” he added. “I shall have Admiral Valentine arrange more guards for the Summer Palace The terrorists must not be allowed a clear shot at you.”

  He bowed and turned to leave. Roland was clearly sharper and more dangerous than he’d realised. It was possible that the shock of nearly being killed had concentrated his mind on something more than pleasure ... and if that were the case, he might become a problem. He would have to be dealt with firmly.

  ***

  “They want me to get married?”

  “So it would seem,” Belinda said, absently. Most of her mind was considering the provisions of emergency bill #23. The Grand Senate might not have realised just how much power they’d handed over to the emergency committee. It had been a long time since the Tyrant Emperor had concentrated a great deal of power in his hands. The next tyrant might not even be of royal blood.

  She glanced into the exhaustive files compiled by Marine Intelligence, but there was very little on Lily Sapphire. The girl was barely fourteen years old; the single picture suggested a personality that might have been well-matched with the old Roland. But pictures could present a misleading image.

  Belinda shook her head, tiredly. The Grand Senator hadn't shown any sign of realising what she actually was, but if he followed through on his threat to send additional guards the cat would definitely get out of the bag. And then ...?

  “We’ll just have to see what happens,” she said, tightly. She had the uncomfortable feeling that a noose was being drawn tight around her neck. Her combat instincts had never failed her before. “And make some contingency plans, just in case.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It would be a mistake to believe that the Grand Senators were unaware of the looming disaster. Unlike the civilians, the Grand Senators had access to unmassaged data and knew the truth. However, they faced a dilemma that made it difficult for them to act. If they made sweeping changes to the system, they risked destroying the base of their own power – and provoking rebellion from among their own followers. But if they didn't, their power base would eventually collapse when the Empire itself fell to rubble.

  -Professor Leo Caesius, The End of Empire

  “Emergency bill #23, signed by Prince Roland four days ago, has ordered an immediate freeze in food prices,” the talking head said. “It has been declared illegal to raise food prices above an officially-mandated limit or to hoard food supplies in the hopes that the price will start to rise again. A number of shopkeepers have been arrested for failing to follow the new directives and ...”

  Jacqueline clicked the display off in exasperation. She’d been to the shops and discovered that there was hardly any food to be had, apart from the standard algae bars. And they were being rationed. Normally, one could buy as many algae bars as one could, but no longer. Jacqueline had only been able to buy five bars – enough for a week – and had been cautioned by the shopkeeper that hoarding was thoroughly illegal. What the fuck did they think that she was going to do? Five bars hardly constituted a hoard.

  She hadn't been to the protest march that had turned into a riot, but she’d seen dozens of injured students and felt the sullen defiance pervading the university. If she had been able to afford it, she would have moved away from the university or simply gone back home, rather than stay in a place that felt as if it were on the verge of exploding. But she didn't have the money to leave, any more than her parents could afford to come and collect her. All she could do was wait and pray that the whole crisis blew over.

  No one had seen anything of Amethyst since the riot either. Amethyst’s name wasn't on the list of dead students – or on the list of students who had been arrested and held in custody prior to their release. Jacqueline, worried about her friend, had asked around, but no one seemed to know anything. Admittedly, her friend had been spending time with a new boyfriend, yet she wasn't even answering her handcom or replying to messages. Surely she could just send back a brief note to tell Jacqueline that she was alive and well.

  Jacqueline splashed hot water into a mug, poured in a handful of flavoured granules and slowly stirred it with a plastic spoon. Amethyst’s disappearance worried her on more than just one level. They shared the apartment, but if Amethyst stopped paying her share of the rent they would both be evicted. And if that happened ... Jacqueline had few illusions about the future. Where the hell would they live? Come to think of it, they wouldn't be able to afford anywhere.

  She fretted about it as she nibbled one of the algae bars. As always, it tasted like cardboard, even though the sellers swore blind that the bars provided everything a growing human would need. The flavoured bars
were much more expensive – and besides, they too had been in short supply over the last month. Only the very basic bars had been available in the stores, even though algae was easy to produce. What did that mean for the future?

  Shaking her head, she picked up the datapad and tried to concentrate on her course notes for art and design. All classes had been cancelled, but she’d been falling behind; she needed to study, if only so she could parrot everything she had read back to the tutor. A few moments later, she gave up in disgust. She just couldn't concentrate.

  Absently, she picked up her handcom and sent another message to Amethyst. There was no reply. She swore out loud as she put the handcom down and walked into the bathroom, undressing and stepping into the shower. They’d received all sorts of lectures on saving water when they first moved into the apartment block, but few of the students had taken them seriously at the time. Now, the water seemed lukewarm rather than hot – and several students had received warning notices stating that they would be evicted if they didn't control their usage. Jacqueline had no idea what it meant, but she doubted that it was anything good.

  The lights flickered briefly as she washed and dried herself, causing her to swear out loud. That had become an increasingly regular occurrence – and it had caused her to panic, the first time it had happened. There were no windows in their little apartment; if the power went out for more than a few seconds they would be plunged into instant darkness. She’d heard rumours that other apartment blocks had lost power completely, each story more horrifying than the last, but she didn't know what to believe. The news media had never reported any such stories.

  Jacqueline glanced at the handcom – Amethyst still hadn't replied – and stepped into her tiny bedroom. The walls seemed to be closing in on her, the room growing smaller and smaller every day ... she knew it was an illusion, but it was proven very difficult to shake. If she’d been able to go outside ... but no, half of the student nightclubs had been shut down and besides, she didn't have anyone to go with. And the campus was crawling with university cops and Civil Guardsmen. Maybe she was going crazy. There was no shortage of rumours about other students going mad from the pressure and doing stupid things. She pushed the thought aside, lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. Perhaps the world would look better in the morning.