A full company of Sentinel robot infantry from the auxiliaries of the Silver City Regulars guarded the doors, but they passed Paramo without question.
He found the Chief of State of the Terran Alliance, Queen Neferneferu’aten, in the Executive Office, seated behind a massive oaken desk overlooking a stunning view of the Silver City. Aides and generals looked up at Paramo and offered him military salutes as he approached.
“Warmaster,” Neferneferu’aten said, her voice soothing and exotic. She swivelled her chair to one side and gave Paramo a wide smile. She was only sixteen years old, but she had a brilliant mind; a child prodigy who had worked tirelessly during the days of the Provisional Government prior to the formation of the New Senate, she was now a highly regarded leader throughout the Twelve Factions. She was the only daughter of the former Einekian Queen, Anacksu’namon, and was perhaps even more beautiful than her mother. Neferneferu’aten was in the prime of her youth, being brilliant to look upon and to listen to.
“Your Majesty,” Paramo bowed. “Emperor Khonsu sends his regards. He regrets that you were unable to attend last night’s dinner in person. Holoconferencing is never quite the same as a face-to-face discussion.”
In a clatter of equipment and murmur of hushed comments, the other assembled figures gathered their materials and headed for the exit, keeping their eyes low as they filed past.
Neferneferu’aten watched them go, then looked at Paramo, holding her smile. “Nobody regrets it more than I, Warmaster. But you know it was a wise decision on my behalf, to stay away. Our recent intelligence of an assassination plot has put an important emphasis on security coordination here at the Palace, especially amid the turbulent times the Alliance is passing through.”
He nodded. “Of course, your Majesty. The head of the intelligence branch is playing his role well, I must say, and we shouldn’t forget the accomplishments made by the branch in revealing the identity of a number of Empyreal Sun spies working within the Silver City.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “How ironic that these terrorists name themselves after the dwelling-place of God, yet their actions have been nothing but murder, destruction, kidnapping and theft.”
“The Empyrean,” Paramo nodded thoughtfully. “A celestial place so divine it is made of pure light, and the source of light and creation.” One grim picture after another flashed into his mind: scenes of Xam Bahr’s atrocities, the many battles that had followed, the agony of leaving behind the wounded and the dead. The pointless destruction. “They are devoted to the One Religion,” he said at last. “But they have twisted it almost beyond recognition.”
Neferneferu’aten ran her hand over her dark hair, plaited as always into the braids of a virgin queen. “I have even heard gruesome rhymes about the eventual return of Lord Damarus, based on the prophecies of the Third Testament. To what extent Xam Bahr’s followers, and Sai’bot, actually believe these mangled stories is up for debate, but clearly they are willing to kill anyone who resists them.”
“That is ultimately irrelevant,” Paramo said, with a shrug. “The prophecies of the Third Testament are the ramblings of a madman, nothing more. Besides, the tables should be turning on the Empyreal Sun any day now. If the Nommos people can trace the trajectory of Xam Bahr’s ship as Khonsu suggested, we will be confronting them openly, with the full force of our combined space fleets. We will not allow them to threaten the Alliance any longer than is necessary.”
The queen’s eyes took on a speculative gleam, but she did not comment on the hopeful reassurance. “Walk with me,” she told him.
Machiko Famasika made her way across the ridge of the Sacred Palace armoury’s steeply sloped roof, running lightly and in perfect balance. The sprawling inner courtyard lay below her, and from this vantage she commanded a clear view of the west gate. Several Sentinel guards were stationed on either side of the portal, which was used only by members of the New Senate and the Terran Alliance military coming here on official business.
She sped up as she approached the end of the roof and hurled herself into the air. Soaring over the twelve-meter divide with the assistance of a Rãvier suit, she landed in a crouch on the lower, flatter roof of the Palace kitchens.
As she sprinted toward the western edge of the roof, she scanned the gardens and pens below. Sentinels walked the perimeters of the Palace walls, vigilant against threats to the Queen, but from time to time they seemed to forget how many spies had been operating within the Palace itself recently. Other than the garden maze, the kitchen wing offered the best potential ambush sites. It was also conveniently situated right next to the west bailey.
The blasting of ceremonial trumpets pierced the air, announcing Queen Neferneferu’aten’s approach. Machiko crouched and crept cautiously to the edge of the roof. Several cooks stood at a long wooden table, transforming a small mountain of game birds into the main course for a lunchtime feast. The steady thump of the cleaver set a counterpoint to the chatter of the young boys who plucked the feathers. Beyond this scene of domestic slaughter lay the herb garden. Two men in loose-fitting tunics picked bitter herbs for salad. Both wore hoods to protect their skin from the harsh rays of the reddish midday sun. More servants went about other tasks - picking berries for pastries, lugging foaming pails of cream from the milk house, scything down clusters of nuts.
Machiko’s cool grey eyes darted over gardens and outbuildings, looking for anything that seemed out of place. All appeared to be as it should be. She watched as one of the older men climbed the stairs to the Aviary, a large birdhouse that enticed Of’tyna birds to enter and nest. Originally native to one of the moons of Proxima Centauri, their tiny, pink-shelled eggs were a delicacy and would certainly be included on the menu. The old man climbed slowly, hauling himself along the railing with one hand and clutching an egg basket with the other, a very large egg basket.
Machiko ripped a flat stone tile from the roof and rose to her feet. Three things then happened in rapid succession: The Palace Hall doors opened, and from them emerged the Queen herself, accompanied by Ammold Paramo. The ‘old man’ at the Aviary stairs whipped a plasma blaster from the oversized basket and pointed it at the Queen. Machiko hurled the tile with all her Rãvier—enhanced strength, sending it spinning toward the assassin.
Her aim held true, and the tile struck the arm holding the weapon with a force that spun the assassin around and sent him tumbling down the stairs. The shot went wild, the golden plasma bolt pinging down into the orchards, ricocheting, sending golden fruit plummeting and launching birds into startled, squawking flight.
The Sentinel guards were upon the assassin before he’d even reached the bottom. One of them hauled the assailant to his feet and jerked off his hood in one powerful motion.
A hush fell over the courtyard. The assassin’s face was familiar to them all. It was none other than Timpo Jocle, a member of the New Senate - and one of the Queen’s most trusted advisors.
Machiko climbed down a trellis and stalked toward the defiant man. She stopped a few paces away and gazed into his face. “Senator Jocle,” she said coolly. “I’d heard there was another Empyreal Sun spy in our midst, but I never expected it to be you.” Without waiting for a response, she turned to the Sentinels and nodded. Emotionless, they hauled the traitor away.
She took a long breath, then turned away and went to greet Paramo, and the Queen. They both stood inside the west bailey now, looking clearly shaken by the surprise attack. Neferneferu’aten was a tall young woman with a fit, disciplined physique. Dark hair was pulled severely back into a single thick braid, framing a face that was exceptionally pretty. From a few paces away, she didn’t look much older than any normal sixteen-year-old girl. Only the fine lines around her eyes and the weariness in them suggested the weight of her responsibilities.
The gaze she turned upon Machiko Famasika was both proud and sombre. “Commander Famasika, they tell me that I owe you my life. Clear thinking, quick action - I can see why Warmaster Paramo considers
you one of his finest agents.”
Machiko bowed. “Just doing my job, Your Majesty.”
Paramo smiled down at her. “Excellent work, Machiko. But what happened? I thought you were off duty today…”
Machiko kept alert, scanning the roofs and alcoves for signs of movement, comparing the length and shape of shadows to the objects that cast them. “I received a last minute tip-off from an old friend - Lomax - about Senator Jocle and his intentions. Lomax is somebody I would trust with my life. I came to know him well during my incarceration at Daam K’Vosh.”
Paramo nodded. “I remember. You spoke very highly of him.”
“Anyway,” she breathed, “I knew Senator Jocle had access to the Palace grounds, and there wasn’t much time - so here I am.”
Neferneferu’aten broke into a sunny smile. “You have served me, and the Terran Alliance, well on this day. Thankyou… Machiko.”
They moved slowly away through the courtyard, oblivious to the noise and excitement of the stunned servants around them.
5
190 ND
HOLY JUSTICE COURT, EINEK
Machiko Famasika stood alone in the centre of the Grand Courtroom and was frightened. Not that the Sentinels had treated her badly. On the contrary, they’d taken care of their prisoner far better than she had anticipated: following her arrest, she’d been put in a comfortable cell with a padded bunk and given fairly decent food, if you allowed for the fact it was made by robots in a protein resequencer. Not that she’d been able to eat more than a bite. The only degrading part was being denied a shower - and Machiko was doing a lot of sweating.
The Grand Courtroom was a curious blend of cathedral and circus: a cavernous stadium arranged in rising circular tiers fashioned from gold, braced on either side by lower aisles, separated from the main space by a row of columns. The aisles facilitated the movement of people around the room, and also strengthened the structure by buttressing the exquisitely-decorated inner walls that carried the high roof. Above the roof of the aisle were clerestory windows. At the centre of the room, at the very base, was the prisoners’ dock, a circular enclosure that came to Machiko’s waist. The dock was spotlighted, the rest of the room dim, shadowed.
Machiko squinted and could just make out the holocameras suspended from the high walls. At first the realisation made her even more nervous - so everyone in Einek would be watching the debacle; and then she realised with horror that it would be the least of her worries. She scanned the high tiers jutting above her just as Lord Damarus himself, wearing a metallic mask and cloaked in black, entered with his bizarre entourage. She had never seen the Holy Emperor in person before, only in recordings through books and holocubes - and the eerie, otherworldly appearance of the pharaoh-like Sovereign filled her with hope. Damarus, she knew, was reasonable, compassionate, intelligent, and a prophet of the Lord God Himself. Surely he wouldn’t believe that Machiko was a heretic.
The audience, mostly made up of cardinals, bishops, and High Priests from the Holy Church, began to chant, softly at first, increasing to a thunderous roar until Machiko felt it in the soles of her feet: “Heretic! Heretic! Heretic!”
Machiko gripped the edge of the dock lest her wobbly knees betrayed her. The crowd’s chanting grew so loud she could no longer think. Her defence attorney - dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, powerfully built - entered the arena then. Machiko had been too distraught at their first and only brief meeting to remember his name. She remembered only her surprise at the fact that the likable young Einekian seemed sincerely interested in trying to help his client, though he offered little hope of a favourable verdict.
A moment later, the Patriarch of the Holy Church, Xam Bahr, emerged from the shadows. A white-skinned and ghastly alien originally hailing from the planet Nasak Yamani II in the Delta Serpentis system, Bahr was now the highest-ranking bishop in the Holy Church and answered to Lord Damarus alone. The audience stilled expectantly. Prisoner, prosecution, defence, Machiko thought cynically. But no judge or jury…
Xam Bahr began to speak, his expression one of utter smugness and satisfaction. Machiko glared, convinced that Bahr had been waiting a long time for this moment. “The state will show,” Bahr said, “that Machiko Famasika attempted to undermine Lord Damarus’ divine authority, and that of the Holy Orthodoxy, by attributing legitimacy to the falsified relic so named the Tak’Drayen Stone. That she did willingly attempt to exhibit the false idol in a public forum, with the intention of deceiving our loyal subjects with her heretical ideas about its origins!” He turned to Machiko with a slight, insulting smile. “Do you deny all this?”
“Heretic! Heretic!” the spectators hooted.
Machiko heard a sound of metal striking stone, and gazed up into the darkness directly above her in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of the ghostly, eerily expressionless face of Lord Damarus’ mask. The crowd stilled.
“The prisoner will respond,” Damarus commanded, his voice a dissonantly flanged, deep and unnerving sound through the filters of the mask. He wore a studded glove to which was attached a dull metal sphere that Machiko realised served as a gavel.
A muscle in Machiko’s jaw danced. “I don’t deny that I discovered the artefact in question during a rock-climbing expedition at Olympus Mons, on Mars. Neither do I deny that I attempted to exhibit the artefact. My molecular analysis of it was conclusive. It is constructed from the same material as Heaven’s Gate…”
“Your analysis was flawed,” Xam Bahr said. “Heaven’s Gate is a Sacred relic, created by God during the Second Genesis. You imply, with your heretical suggestion, that it was not…”
Machiko looked down and shook her head. Why didn’t her attorney object? This was a damned politically-motivated show trial, a blatant attempt to cover-up her ground-breaking discovery.
“Are you not aware that you are in God’s grace?” Xam Bahr barked.
“If I am not, may God put me there,” Machiko uttered, “and if I am, may God so keep me.” She watched as Bahr strutted back and forth in front of the prisoners’ dock.
“And you still maintain that the object is genuine? Even though our own tests have proved it is a fake? Even though you stand in the presence of your Holy Emperor? Do you still deny that you fashioned the object yourself?”
“The Church doctored the results of their tests, of that I am certain,” Machiko answered stonily. “I am being framed here. With all due respect, how can you just bury your heads in the sand over this discovery? The Tak’Drayen Stone could change our understanding of history…” Dammit, she thought to herself. Are you trying to get yourself the death penalty? The rest of her thoughts were drowned out by the crowd’s howls of derision.
Xam Bahr was not amused; he stared silently at her before continuing. “Machiko Famasika, do you even believe in the One Religion?”
“Objection!” her defence attorney protested. “My client’s religious views are not on trial here.”
Bahr’s eyes glimmered. “On the contrary, I believe that her beliefs, and therefore her motives, are at the very heart of this matter.”
Damarus nodded once. “Overruled. You may continue, Patriarch.”
Relentlessly, Xam Bahr looked at Machiko and leaned toward her. “Are you not an adherent to the fantastical heresies of the outlaw Ammold Paramo? Is it not true that you support his so-called Neodisestablishmentarianist Movement?”
Machiko blinked, hesitating. “I… I…”
Bahr didn’t let her finish. “I offer into the record the following excerpt from Commander Famasika’s personal log, courtesy of the Einekian military.” He signalled someone at the far end of the room. Machiko’s recorded voice filled the entire chamber, amplified by a hidden speaker: “I believe that Paramo’s vision may be the way forward for our people. The words of the Third Testament were written by a fraud who rules the populace by fear, and nothing more than that. If there were ever a way to overthrow Damarus and his Church, then I would be happy to take part in such endeavours…”
/> An explosive babble filled the room; Damarus pounded his metal glove for silence.
“Are those your words?” Bahr demanded.
Machiko stared at him with an expression of horror. “Yes.”
“Spoken by you?”
“Yes.”
“Louder, please,” Bahr insisted. “We cannot hear you.”
Machiko straightened and said firmly, “Yes. Those words were spoken by me.” She closed her eyes and surrendered all hope. She leaned wearily against the dock as her attorney spread his arms in appeal to the Holy Emperor presiding above them.
“Objection! This recording proves nothing.”
Machiko listened to it all with sudden detachment, exhausted by the emotions Xam Bahr’s questioning had evoked in her. Hearing the words from her own private log had also stunned her. She wearily lowered her face into her hands, defeated. Had she ever really thought she had a chance in hell of being found innocent here?
Xam Bahr moved closer to the prisoner’s dock, circling like a hawk, Machiko thought, moving in for the kill. “This officer’s record shows the accused to be an insubordinate, unprincipled career opportunist with a history of violating the Holy Law whenever it suited her. And this recording… demonstrates that she would stop at nothing to destabilise and overthrow the Holy Church should the chance arise. Her attempts to exhibit this forged artefact were part of a plot toward that end, possibly instigated by Paramo’s heretical group themselves!”
The crowd roared.
Bahr’s posture and expression radiated victory. He faced Damarus. “My Lord, I rest my case.”
Machiko paled and opened her mouth to speak, then stopped short as Damarus’ gauntlet crashed against stone with a flurry of sparks. “It is the judgement of this court, that the prisoner is guilty as charged.” The spectators roared, then began to chant again, the same single, booming word: “Heretic! Heretic! Heretic…!”
The Complete New Dominion Trilogy Page 30
