by Chris Bunch
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Wildside Press
ebooks.wildsidebooks.com
Copyright ©2001 by Allan Cole
First published in USA, 2001
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
FOREWORD TO THE NOVEL SERIES
THE BOOKS
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Dedication
BOOK ONE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
BOOK TWO
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BOOK THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
BOOK FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
THE STEN COOKBOOK
Recipe Index
STEN
THE WOLF WORLDS
THE COURT OF A THOUSAND SUNS
REVENGE OF THE DAMNED
THE RETURN OF THE EMPEROR
VORTEX
EMPIRE'S END
Alex Kilgour's Beef Jerky
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STEN #6: The Return of the Emperor
Allan Cole and Chris Bunch
FOREWORD TO THE NOVEL SERIES
Hailed as a “landmark science fiction series” the Sten Series has thrilled millions of readers all over the world.
Set three thousand years in the future, the eight Sten novels tell the tale of a tough, street-wise orphan who escapes his fate as factory planet “delinq” to become the strong right-hand of the most powerful man in the Universe—a man hailed by his billons of subjects as “The Eternal Emperor."
THE HERO
Sten is the ultimate survivor. He's lightning quick, mean streets cunning and blessed with the twin gifts of hungry intelligence and hard-won common sense. Born on a factory planet where life has less value than the lowliest machine, Sten rebels against The Company that enslaved, then killed his parents. He finds a new family of sorts—and the means for revenge—in the ranks of the Emperor's Imperial Forces.
A series of crucial missions brings him to the attention of the Eternal Emperor himself. Sten's talents and unshakable loyalty are tested in crisis after crisis, brutal warfare, and assassination.
Besides his “black ops” skills, Sten is armed with a weapon of last resort—he carries a small knife made of an undetectable substance in a flesh and muscle “sheath” in his arm. With a blade edge only one molecule thick, the knife can cut through any substance like butter.
Sten rises swiftly until he becomes a confidante and advisor to the Emperor. Through all this Sten never forgets his lowly origins. Self-depreciating humor, friendship and luck in love shield him from Fame's blinding light. If anything his empathy and sense of responsibility for the common folk of the Empire grow with each new honor and badge of rank.
Finally he is asked to make the supreme sacrifice—risking even those he loves—to stand up for the citizens of the Empire. Then, when he succeeds, he turns his back on the greatest honor of all.
STEN'S WORLD
Picture the greatest Empire history has known. Its boundaries are the Universe itself, containing more stars, planets and sentient life than could be calculated by the swiftest 21st Century computer. This is a space kingdom where humans live side-by-side with countless alien forms. In fact the word alien itself is offensive and all species are merely called “beings.” The planetary systems range from the sophistication of Prime World where the elite gather—to the rough and ready mining and frontier worlds at the Empire's edges.
Ruling over all this is:
THE ETERNAL EMPEROR
As his title implies, the Eternal Emperor is a human who has mastered death through the use of secret cloning techniques and mind transfer. When he's in his cups, he sometimes boasts that although he's been the target of hundreds of assassination, only three were successful.
The Emperor is the ultimate capitalist and when Sten steps onto the stage he has reigned for three thousand years. The source of the Eternal Emperor's power is a mysterious fuel—called Anti-Matter Two (AM2). It drives the star ships that link the Empire and provides the energy for all industry, agriculture and commerce. He alone controls its supply and price. And he alone knows where AM2 is to be found.
The Emperor is no tyrant. He prefers wit to force, negotiation to confrontation. But if all else fails he has enormous military resources to back up his will. His past is a rigorously guarded secret and his future is permanently entwined with the Empire he created.
Despite his vast power the Emperor greatly misses the familiar things of his 21st Century youth. On a bad day he would trade it all in for a good bottle of single malt scotch or the sweet sound of an old, hand-crafted violin. He spends his spare time in his antique-cluttered royal suites, restoring or re-constructing nostalgic objects from his salad days.
The Emperor, who has the looks of a handsome, 35-year-old, is also a consummate cook and spends hours in his Prime World kitchens recreating the recipes of ancient Earth, while hatching elaborate plans to confound his many enemies.
The Eternal Emperor sees a bit of his long ago self in Sten. After all, as he occasionally implies, his roots are as common as Sten's. If their relationship was not by necessity that of ruler and subject they might even have become friends.
Sten admires the Emperor. Perhaps, in a way, he even considers him a father figure. And he has sworn absolute loyalty to the Empire. In the end, however, he will realize that his loyalty is to the idea not the man.
OTHER CHARACTERS
Sten's world is filled with bizarre and wonderful characters. Among the more important are:
ALEX KILGOUR: Sten's sidekick and confidant. An incredibly strong heavy-worlder of Scots descent, Kilgour's passion is shaggy-dog stories. All of which are so awful that his mission mates can hardly wait for the bad guys to kick in the door and interrupt him.
IAN MAHONEY: Sten's mentor. A top military man, Mahoney excels at both cloak-and-dagger and more conventional warfare, and prefers to lead from the front. He is totally loyal to Emperor.
RYKOR—A walrus-like alien who is the Emperor's chief psychiatrist. A fan for Sten's from the beginning, ultimately her loyalties will be to him.
And there are many more, including the various beautiful and multi-talented women Sten squires during his adventures. Ranging from a tough Prime World detective, to the princess of a barbaric race of space pir
ates.
SR. ECU: The Manabi are a very special race of aliens, who appreciate beauty and civilization above all things, and whose specialty is the high art of diplomacy. They are prized for their negotiating skills and adamant neutrality. A philosophy that will be tested to the breaking point—and beyond.
MARR and SENN: Imperial caterers par excellence, these two furry beings are past masters at the art of the party.
THE PRIVY COUNCIL: The ultimate conspirators—ranging from the bizarre Kraa twins, to that most tragic of beings, Sr. Kyes—who seize power through the assassination of the Eternal Emperor.
POYNDEX: A new member of the Privy Council. His hands are clean, but his soul is as dirty as the rest of them.
VENLOE: The master assassin whose toady slew the Emperor. And soon he will be ready to change masters once more.
DUSABLE: A planet ruled by the most corrupt politicians in history. ‘Old Chicago’ is their haloed icon. A perfect breeding ground for the Eternal Emperor's return.
CIND: A beautiful Bhor warrior princess and crack sniper who has set sights of a very different nature on Sten.
STREGG—THE DRINK: This heart-stopping booze appears first in Book Two: The Wolf Worlds, where a race of Viking-like beings is introduced. Hailing from an ice-planet, their ancestral enemy was the Streggan, a fierce beast that hunted the Bohr almost into annihilation. Finally, they turned the tide and wiped out the beast entirely. They named their favorite drink Stregg, in honor of their ancient enemy. The names were inspired by a boozy session the authors’ had at Harry's Bar in Century City, California. There they discovered the wonders of Stregga, the Italian liqueur. It means witch in Italian. Here's the secret to making your own Stregg: mix one part Stregga with one part white Tequila. Drink straight, or pour over ice. Some like to add a little simple syrup. We didn't.
THE FOOD: The recipes created in each book by the Eternal Emperor have become as famous as Alex Kilgour's jokes. Many readers have requested a Sten Cookbook. Wishes granted. At the end of this Sten episode you'll find a complete Sten Cookbook, suitable for printing.
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THE BOOKS
Sten
The Wolf Worlds
The Court of a Thousand Suns
Fleet of the Damned
Revenge of the Damned
Return of the Emperor
Vortex
End of Empire
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Note: The titles of Books One, Two, and Three are the official ranks Augustus won from the Roman senate to become Emperor. Princeps means “Leading Man.” Imperator, “Military Commander.” This word is the Latin root for Emperor. Pater Patriae means “Father of the Fatherland."
The title of Book Four translates as “We About to Die Salute You.” It was the famous cry of the gladiators as they paid respects to their emperor before engaging in the bloodbaths of the ancient circuses.
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ABOUT THE AUTHORS: International bestselling authors and screenwriters Allan Cole and the late Chris Bunch were collaborators for nearly twenty years. Together, and separately, they have published over forty novels and sold more than 150 TV and movie screenplays. For details about Allan's life and work, see his homepage at www.acole.com. For information about Chris, see his Wikipedia entry at en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ChrisBunch. Both authors are also featured in the International Movie Data Base (IMDB.com)
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Dedication
To
Norman Spinrad
(Hippiecommiesymp—Active)
Who helped us walk into this drakh
And
Dennis Foley
(Green Hat—Retired)
Who keeps it from getting more than chin-high
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BOOK ONE
PRINCEPS
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CHAPTER ONE
THE SHIP BULKED monstrous. Each of the decahedron's sides measured nearly a square kilometer.
There was but one man on board. He floated, motionless, in a shallow pool that curved in the center of one compartment. His eyes opened. Blue. Incurious, like a newly born child. Some time passed.
A valve activated, and the liquid drained out of the pool. One side dropped away. The man sat up and lowered his legs to the deck, moving slowly and carefully like an invalid testing himself after a long time bedridden. The deck was warm.
He might have sat there for a moment, an hour, or a day before a voice spoke. It came from everywhere.
"There is food and drink in the next chamber."
Obediently the man pushed himself to his feet. He swayed, then recovered. On a low stand beside the pool/ bed was a blue coverall. He glanced at it briefly, then walked to a wall. It was smooth and blank except for a circular palmswitch. He touched the switch.
The wall became a screen. Vid? Imaging radar? Computer simulation?
Outside lay space/not space. It was black, and it was all colors. It hurt the man's eyes. He palmed the switch once more, and the screen became a wall.
Still naked, he padded through a doorway.
A table was set for one. The dishes were covered. The man lifted one cover and scooped food up with his fingers. He chewed, then swallowed. His expression was still unchanged.
He wiped his fingers on his thigh and walked into another compartment, where he saw a reclining chair with a steel-gleaming helmet on it. Odd tendrils curled from the helmet.
The man sat down and put the helmet on.
There were other people in the room. No. He was outside. He was wearing clothing—some kind of uniform. The other people were all smiling and laughing and trying to touch him. He let them. He heard himself saying words he did not yet understand.
He noted one person amid the throng. He had a very pale face, and his eyes gleamed. The pale-faced man stretched out his hand to shake. Suddenly he drew something metal-shining from his clothing.
The man felt blows in his stomach. Felt himself falling backward. Felt pain. Pain rising until ... until everything stopped.
The man took off the helmet. He was back in the compartment, back in the reclining chair.
The voice spoke again. “E-time since deactivation: six years, three months, two days."
The man's expression changed slightly. A thought drifted through his mind: Wrong. Five years late. Then the thought was discarded as meaningless. What was “late?” He rose.
"You have ten ship-days before departure."
The man nodded once. He returned to the mess compartment. He was hungry again.
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CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS A QUIET little planet in a nondescript system overseen by a dying yellow star. The system had no particular history, was well off any major trade or tourist routes, and rarely had any visitors.
Many E-years before, an Imperial Survey Mission had made a desultory study and found little of interest. The science officer had duly noted that it was about .87 E-size, had commensurate gravity, E-normal atmosphere, and sat three AU from its sun. The climate was tropical to subarctic, and the planet supported any number of thriving life forms. The top predator on land was a shy, catlike creature that proved to be of no danger to anyone.
There were also “No beings of higher development observed."
The planet was dubbed Survey World XM-Y-1134. And for several hundred years, that was its sole name—although it was unlikely anyone ever asked.
It got a proper name of sorts from a restless entrepreneur who built a mansion in the temperate zone for himself and his hangers-on, then briefly toyed with the idea of turning it into a remote resort. To this end, he had constructed a state-of-the-art spaceport. Whether or not the idea had merit, no one would ever learn. The entrepreneur lost three or four fortunes and came to an obscure, rather sad end.
But the planet didn't mind. It hummed and wobbled busily about its orbit as it
had done for several billion years, scratching its fur against a cosmic stump every few hundred millions of years or so—and wiping out any life-forms that had become too prolific and giving another group a start.
The planet's new name was Smallbridge. The source for that name was buried along with the entrepreneur and his conceit.
Sten liked it fine. He had spent more than five years exploring Smallbridge's beaches, marshes, broad plains and deserts, forests and ice floes, sometimes with eager companions, sometimes alone. There had been a few adventures—and more than a few trysts with lovely women. But nothing had stuck. He had encountered no one like the steel-willed Bet of his youth. Or the relentless Lisa Haines. Or the fiery gambler, St. Clair.
In the last year or so, he had found himself just going through the motions of living. He had fallen into a dark mood he couldn't shake.
During rational moments, he would rouse himself. Give himself a good talking to. Call himself all kinds of a rich fool of a clot.
He had everything any being could want, didn't he? Gypsy Ida, his old Mantis teammate, had seen to that. He and Alex Kilgour had exited the Tahn POW camp wealthy beyond their dreams. While they had languished in the Heath slammer, Ida had rolled their ever-growing back pay into one investment after another until the result was two not so smallish fortunes.
Besides the money, Kilgour wound up with the poshest estate on his heavy-world home of Edinburgh.
Sten got his own planet.
Thanks a clot of a lot, Ida. Now, what?
Come on, don't blame the Rom. As Mahoney would have said: “Don't be kicking over the milk the cow gave.” Mahoney would have reminded Sten that he had plucked him off the factory world of Vulcan, a young Delinq half a breath from being brain-burned. Mahoney would sneer and point out that Sten had crawled through the mud and worse to rise from the ranks as an infantry grunt to a deadly Mantis operative to commander of the Emperor's personal bodyguard to hero of the Tahn wars—and finally to admiral. He would brush over the oceans of gore Sten was personally responsible for and tell him that he was still a young man and just needed to pluck his finger out and get back to business.
