“To control resources,” Parsons said. “The Autocrat is very young. She does not realize how much power devolves upon those who control supply and demand. I would wager that her influence lies upon many other sources of wealth than shipping. The Autocracy ought to have prospered more than it has since the end of hostilities with the Imperium. It has not, in part because of these artificial limitations. I had suspected it was the High Protector. He has reason to sustain a grudge against the Imperium, but the stricture is not imposed only on ships that originate from the Imperium, nor as we have just seen, it is he who determines how many ships can enter.”
“No,” Plet said, enlightenment dawning on the pale oval of her face. “He’s just being told what to do. The Autocrat has absolute authority. But who has authority over her?”
“Well, Lord Toliaus does,” I said. “He’s the only one who knows how many ships would cross into the Autocracy and when. All he has to do is declare a Day of Grace. I bet he has some kind of financial interest.”
“But is he the mastermind behind a military takeover?” she asked.
“I would hate to think so,” I said. “He is so jealous of anyone else’s authority. It seems completely illogical to attack the Autocrat when she’s the only reason he has any power to begin with.”
“If he is the instigator, he has a different target in mind,” Parsons said. “The High Protector must be informed. But Lord Toliaus cannot be working alone. He must have a network behind him that is planning this attack, led by a trusted ally or allies. The Bertus are the key to finding those others and whatever weapons they brought in. We must confer with Lord Rimbalius.”
CHAPTER 44
“No, the Autocrat will not call it off,” Lord Rimbalius said, all ten circular fingertips pressed against his desk. “I have tried many times to persuade her to wait. She points out, with some justice, that she has been in danger since the day she assumed the throne. This is a celebration of the second anniversary of that date. She will make herself seen by her subjects and by her guests.”
“You can’t fault her courage,” I said, with a resigned shrug. “I got the same answer from her at breakfast.”
Security at the rear entrance to the palace a day before the anniversary festival had become much tighter. Parsons and I were only allowed to enter after personnel wearing the livery of the High Protector had scanned not only our persons but our gear. I had readily surrendered my viewpad and bag of rune stones for examination. Even the air around us seemed suspect. The guards seemed unusually nervous. I could not blame them. They would have two days’ difficult duty going through parcels, bags, boxes and crates containing the food and decorations for the next day’s feast, not to mention examining every guest lest they were carrying a device of mass destruction.
“I am inclined to agree with the Autocrat,” Parsons said, sitting beside me with a nonchalant air that suggested he had not spent all night wrestling with assassins. “The perpetrators cannot remain hidden forever. Leaks of information or sightings become more likely the longer they wait. It would seem logical that if you wish to draw forth the attack, a well-publicized, well-attended showpiece event is a worthy target.”
“This is the Autocrat’s life we are discussing! Not a carnival parade!” Lord Rimbalius glared at us. “You cannot dismiss her as though she is less important than one of your own citizens.”
“I’m affronted, High Protector,” I said. “The lady Visoltia and I are soulmates now. I would never betray one of my best friends.”
“And you!” Rimbalius turned his ire toward me. “Playing upon the very whims that are holding back the Autocracy from maturing! You are as bad as . . .”
“. . . As Lord Toliaus?” I suggested.
“You are certain of his involvement in the border blockade?” the High Protector asked, his expression shifting to one of incredulity.
“I think so. You permit only so many ships to enter the Autocracy based upon what she tells you. Is that not so?”
“Of course it is. She has absolute power.”
“But do you know where the numbers come from?” I pressed.
“No. I presumed it was a whim of some kind. She has many. Most of them are harmless. I have been unsuccessful in trying to convince her that this one is not, but she will not be moved.”
“I think I can prove that it was no whim. She was manipulated, as you were.”
If thunderclouds had ever gathered over a red sandstone rock, it would have resembled the face of the High Protector at that moment.”
“What do you mean, Loche Kinago? How could she have been? How would Toliaus have accomplished such a thing?”
“I’m not at all surprised that you didn’t know,” I said. “He was probably incredibly careful not to voice his demands where you could hear them, and none of the Autocrat’s personal staff would think anything beyond it being one of his magical ramblings. They were accustomed to the Autocrat taking his word seriously. She has entire wardrobes full of trappings, not to mention songs, poems and prayers for each ‘Day of Grace.’ A lucky number is associated with each of those days. That day was five. And I sat there while Visoltia told you that the number was five. I will bet that he had five ships sitting on the other side of the border, waiting for permission to enter. I have no idea if it is weapons or contraband, or simply people of influence in other sectors that were on those ships, but it was he who fed Visoltia the number for you to act upon. I would imagine her servants and the other ministers felt sorry for you having to play along, but I doubt they would connect it with the border crossings. After all, few of them have anything to do with imports.”
“All these months!” Rimbalius growled. “I will kill him!”
“No, don’t,” Parsons cautioned him. “Her Excellence would only see his death as martyrdom, and probably try to follow his teachings in her own way.”
“But what else can I do? I have held this government together by the scales on my head after the late Autocrat’s passing,” the High Protector said, running his pliable fingertips over those eponymous items. “The system governments all think that the Autocrat must be slightly mad. I have felt for some time that there might be an attack to remove her. It troubles me even to have to think such a thought could pass the minds of her subjects, but I am a realist. People can only be pushed so far from the center of their comforts before they rebel.”
“Now that you have this knowledge, you can use it to your advantage,” Parsons said. “The next time a Day of Grace is declared, find a reason to lower the number that Lord Toliaus expects to see executed, and see how he handles the matter.”
“That is good sense,” Rimbalius said. “I would welcome further insights, but I am very busy with logistics for the feast tomorrow.”
Parsons and I stood up.
“I will do more if I can,” I said. “At the moment, she is so excited about tomorrow that even my attempts to get her to find a place of mindfulness when we meditate are failing. Perhaps the day after tomorrow, when the party has passed, I can get her to see the situation from the other side of the border, so to speak.”
Rimbalius looked weary.
“So much of this would be solved if she would only grow up,” he said.
“Oh, what fun would that be?” I asked. “I must go back to her now. I’m going to teach her how to manipulate a Ouija board to say whatever she wants it to.”
I sat beside Visoltia as she passed down judgements and approved or denied requests from the ministers. I had long ago determined that Visoltia was only called upon to intervene when exceptions needed to be made to longstanding processes or budgets. She had a surprisingly good grasp of economics for such a young girl. The High Educator tried to slip an item in the Autocracy-wide expenditures for what sounded like an experimental program, and Visoltia caught it before he could explain it away.
“I cannot determine whether this is a good program or a bad program by a number, no matter how many zeros it has,” she said, fixing the mini
ster, a much older male Uctu, with a fierce gaze. “I want to see an explanation of what it will accomplish for this outlay. I approve the rest of your budget, though.” Visoltia slashed her thumb across the tablet and handed it back.
Looking sheepish, the High Educator backed away. The High Nourisher caught me looking at him, and dropped her jaw slightly in amusement.
I heard some bustling at the rear of the room. Ema and a gray-clad servant brought lunch to us. To my amusement, the main course was a flat green patty that filled the plate, with an assortment of sauces on the side. She seized one and decorated her meal with it.
“Read my fortune to me, Thomasin,” Visoltia said.
“My pleasure, Your Serenity,” I said. I peered at the design, which I would have described as a modified Imperium Standard numeral two. “I see a high measure of excitement, which interferes with your thought processes.”
She laughed at me.
“It takes no connection to the infinite to know that,” she said.
“I am reading the sauce,” I said. I held out my viewpad, on which was displayed the chart that I had made up of Uctu-oriented squiggles. “Do you see? This is exactly what I would expect.”
“How dare you pollute the mind of the Autocrat with your outworlder sorcery?” Toliaus demanded, swooping down upon us. To my everlasting annoyance, I had not heard him come in. He picked up Visoltia’s plate and held it out of her reach.
“Do you know, that is the second time today I have been accused of that?” I asked, carefully keeping my face blank. “I dare because she asked me to. Perhaps I should read your luck for the day. All predictions for amusement purposes only.”
“You treat the infinite as though it were a game,” Toliaus said. He glared, but I thought I detected a measure of fear in his expression. Perhaps I was having an effect upon Visoltia’s grasp of self-determination. There would never be a better opportunity to push the envelope. I grasped the figurative flap and applied pressure.
“The infinite, as you call it, can be fun,” I admitted. “Although most of my correspondents on the Infogrid think much the same way you do. I think their discomfort is through a lack of knowledge. What is your excuse?”
“Condimentomancy appears to be a graspable science, High Wisdom,” Visoltia piped up from beside me. She proffered a bottle. “Try it!”
“I will not!” Lord Toliaus boomed.
I brought forth the greatest expression of astonishment I had in my quiver and launched it.
“Are you telling the Autocrat that you will not obey her?” I asked.
Every other sound in the room died away at once. They all turned to look at Lord Toliaus. He turned up his glare. I admit that I deserved it, but I wasn’t yet finished with him. This might be the very opportunity for which I was hoping. I held myself as still as a cat at a mousehole. Or, in this case, a lizard’s lair.
Impatiently, the High Wisdom held out his hand for the sauce container. I held out my as-yet untouched luncheon. Very reluctantly, Toliaus took the tube and upended it over the field of green. In jerky movements, he produced a furtive line up and to the left, zigzagging down and to the right, with a sharp cedilla at the bottom, then he put the bottle down.
I studied it, then raised my eyebrows. I turned to the Autocrat with deep solemnity.
“You should dismiss this gentleman from your personal service, Your Excellence,” I said. “At once.”
“What?” Visoltia asked, shocked. “Why?”
“Because he is not trustworthy. He serves another ideal above you. He is afraid of exposure, but he has exposed himself!”
Toliaus hissed with laughter.
“He is not showing genitalia,” the Autocrat said, puzzled. I cursed inwardly at having to communicate in a foreign language, particularly one that I had known well only a short time. I suspected Redius might have played a practical joke on me while he was teaching me colloquialisms. I would talk with him later. Of all the times not to be able to make use of a translation program!
“His private intentions, Your Serenity, not his private parts,” I said, correcting my speech in haste. “Lord Toliaus has been misleading you. He doesn’t believe in any of the things he says to you. They’re just window-dressing for his own purposes. Do you see?” I presented my viewpad and brought up a portion of the chart that showed a similar design. “Read the indications listed below.”
The High Wisdom glared at me. If he could have projected laser bolts from his eyes, I would have been a black spot on the coverlet.
“Is this true?” Visoltia demanded, her face drawn with woe. Toliaus hastened to reassure her, his tone as oily as suet.
“Of course not, my dear, cherished child. All that I do, all I have ever done is for you. I lead you through knowledge of the infinite. What the universe reveals to me is for the good of the entire Autocracy. What wisdom I have, all the power I possess, all my knowledge of the stars and the unseen, is at your service.”
“What wisdom?” I said, in the most scornful tone I could muster. “What tosh! He has no more magic than a food synthesizer.”
His eyes glittered. “Are you calling my skills false? You have no claim on the higher wisdom. I am a greater magician than you!”
“You don’t know who you are dealing with,” I said. “I am a powerful wizard in my own home. My science tells me that you’re ineffective. Visoltia could do better for daily guidance by writing random words on slips of papers and picking one out of a jar.”
“You? You question me?” Lord Toliaus was so furious he was gasping. I had guessed that no one else had ever insulted him twice. Behind him, Ema was gesturing frantically at him. I paid no attention to her. Toliaus was not yet at the stage where I needed him.
“If I am the first ever to tell you the truth, then you’ve lived a long time in ignorance,” I said. “If you were a member of the imperial family, we would speak kindly of you. In hushed tones. In case you would hear us.” I shook my head sadly.
Toliaus had at last reached the boiling point. Hot words bubbled out of him at a furious rate.
“You would treat me like an idiot? How could you ever hope to understand the depth of wisdom that I have attained? Your kind doesn’t seem to understand what true intelligence is! I read the Infogrid files. I know how feckless the imperial family is. The lord of your domain keeps countless useless relatives on the public purse, and for what reason? Is it that he is so feebleminded that he cannot look wise without a covey of fools to surround him? He must be as great an imbecile as you!”
“What did you call my cousin?” I asked, allowing horror and outrage to dawn upon my face.
“Lord Toliaus!” the Autocrat exclaimed, standing up on the broad divan. With its added height, she could look him directly in the eye. “You impugn my imperial brother?”
“Your Serenity,” Lord Toliaus said, a placating expression hastily taking its place upon his ruffled visage, “indeed, no! I was drawing an inference about this . . . this human, this pathetic fool whom your regal sibling chose to send here, into our midst . . .”
“In spite of my limited intelligence, I fully understand your implication,” I said. “I cannot allow the insult to my cousin to stand.” I had no gloves available to deliver the statutory blow, so I emptied the rune stones from their bag and grasped it by the drawstrings. It made a satisfying smack as I slapped Lord Toliaus across the face. “I challenge you, sir!”
“What?” Toliaus sputtered.
“Am I not clear?” I asked, rhetorically, I hoped. “You must pay for your insult. Therefore, I am challenging you to a duel. You may defend your words, but I will have satisfaction! The lady,” and here I bowed low to Visoltia, “will witness our fight to ensure that it is fair, and that the outcome is just.”
“I shall perform that office for you, Thomasin, and for you, High Wisdom,” Visoltia said, her eyes wide and solemn.
I smiled inwardly as Toliaus squirmed, twisting his lizardlike body into a grand impression of a serpent practicing
reeling, writhing and fainting in coils, as one of the great writers of Old Earth had once written.
“A fight?” he said weakly. “Physical altercation? Over words? You must have misunderstood me, Lord Thomas!”
“I doubt that, sir,” I said. I appealed to the others in the room. “Did you hear what he said? Was my understanding mistaken?”
If Toliaus had never appreciated how few allies he had in court, he had ample proof at that moment. All of them, to the lowest servant in a gray smock, signaled no.
“Very well, then,” I said, sliding off the State Bed and retrieving my boots. “I will confront you with the truth. As the challenger, the time and place are at my option. But the choice of weapons . . .” I did my best to avoid a smile, because I could almost see his brain working. “. . . Is yours.”
I marched out of the State Bedroom and into the High Protector’s office. I was glad to see that Parsons had returned. Plet had joined him. They were scanning an infinity of images projected upon the wall. I could hardly wait for them to pause and turn to regard me.
“I have done it,” I said. “I am going to discredit Lord Toliaus.”
“How will you do that?” Lord Rimbalius asked. He seemed to be alarmed at my appearance. Perhaps I did look a trifle excited, with my nostrils flaring and my face red with excitement, not to mention the fact that I was in my stocking feet.
“I challenged him to a duel! I provoked him into insulting the emperor. He left me no choice. We shall meet on the field of honor.”
Parsons allowed just the corner of his mouth to turn up.
“Well done, sir.”
“Thank you, Parsons,” I said.
“I thought that you said to kill him would be counterproductive,” Lord Rimbalius said, his heavy brow lowered almost to his eyelids.
I waved a hand.
“I don’t plan to kill him. He needs to be discredited, and that is just what I will do. I must defeat him on his own ground, and I will get the Autocrat to disown him.”
Fortunes of the Imperium Page 47
