Imperium: Betrayal: Book One in the Imperium Trilogy

by Paul M Calvert

  “There is something in the air here,” she thought, catching a last glimpse of the fishing boat as it passed out of sight, before getting back in the car and parking outside the place she would be calling home for the next few weeks.

  Scene 12, Capital

  Christine listened to the message from her husband with growing alarm. She was shocked to her core at how close a call it had been. If not for blind luck and her wayward son’s behaviour, in all probability she would have lost both of them. Her emotions switched in turn between anger, fear and relief, for a while almost rendering her too shocked to think straight.

  Vimes, before telling her of the message, and anticipating with his usual thoughtfulness she might not want to attend breakfast, had sent a selection of food items along with a variety of alcoholic drinks, tablets and assorted pharmaceutical products for calming one's nerves. Seeing these arrive before having read the message, had warned her bad news was coming and she opened the message from Alex with trepidation. Rising from her chair, she paced around the room, needing to lose some of the nervous energy that threatened to send her running out into the gardens and scream out loud with frustration. Her first instinct was to don an armoured suit herself and take a battle cruiser to meet her husband, but she knew it was impractical and a pointless gesture to even contemplate. Taking one of the royal yachts equipped with the secret QA Jump capability would be of no use either and simply raise many questions as to how she got there so quickly.

  “No,” she said out loud, marshalling her thoughts, “they are both in the best place. My son’s out of direct harm’s way and Alex is on board the flagship. There’s nothing I can do that will make either of them safer at this point. He made the correct decision.”

  “Vimes, what additional security measures have you taken?” she asked, knowing that he would already have taken a number of steps without her permission in his capacity as her personal bodyguard.

  “The intrasystem Grand Fleet has been put on General Alert with security tightened at the Jump Point, Christine. I’ve also moved twenty battle cruisers into a geosynchronous orbit over the Palace, sufficient to deter any ship from approaching. Interdiction around and above the Palace has been increased and the Imperial Bodyguard has begun discrete manoeuvres throughout the grounds under the pretext of “additional practice.” If, and it’s a big if, there are any hostiles currently on Capital then they will know that security has been raised, but as far as the general population is concerned nothing will be out of the ordinary. I can assure you nothing unauthorised can get into the Palace grounds without my knowing about it. Any questions?”

  “Not even a girl of fifteen going on twenty with ideas to bag herself a Prince, Vimes?” Christine replied. “Adam almost managed to smuggle her into his room and he was only twelve at the time.”

  “Ouch, that was a low blow, Christine,” said Vimes with a noticeable wince to his voice. “Remember, he had an almost fully functioning version of myself to assist at the time. I can assure you something like that would never happen again.”

  “My apologies Vimes. It was a low blow, but I’m so angry right now I want to break something. I know you understand.” Christine paused for a moment and gently bit her lower lip. “Thank you for rescheduling this morning’s meetings. When will the financial data Alex requested be ready?

  Vimes hesitated for a moment, checking updates on the requests. “I’ve used our private IQA transmitter to request the data from my counterparts at all the Central banks across the Empire, using our access codes. This will take at least fifteen days, probably more. The non-financial information will have to come through normal channels and be acted on in person by our representatives on those planets, so allow twenty-five days.”

  “How long will it take you to assimilate the financials once they’ve arrived, Vimes?” Christine asked.

  “I’m anticipating a huge volume of information which, even for me, will take several days. I will not be able to devote more computational time to it without compromising other functions such as palace security, which is something I am prevented from doing.”

  “By Alex I suppose,” Christine said as a statement rather than a question.

  “Yes, Christine. He was very insistent on that point yesterday.”

  She stopped pacing around the room and thought hard. Realistically, there was nothing constructive to be done until the information was all in, and even then it would be some time before anything useful would be found, if at all. Priding herself on being logical, Christine decided to compartmentalise these latest developments and get on with her daily routine until such time as there was something concrete to work with.

  “Thank you, Vimes. Let me know the moment you have anything, no matter what I’m doing at the time.” She paused for a moment then continued, “Have I enough time to make the regular breakfast meeting?”

  “Yes, but only if you hurry. I’ll inform them you will be attending after all but might be a few minutes late,” Vimes answered as she walked quickly to the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later, her hair still slightly damp, Christine was striding purposefully across the garden towards the Refectory. Behind it and to the left and right she could see the morning sun reflecting off two large lakes. The morning was much warmer than the previous day and this time there wasn’t any morning dew to mark her path across the lawn. Unusually, she wasn’t enjoying the scents and beautiful scenery, her mind too engaged with events. The fiasco at Heaven kept going through her mind as if it was on a continuous loop, despite her best efforts to compartmentalise it away. However, as she walked through the gardens, Christine found the impact of the shocking news begin to fade from her mind once she began focusing on the day's business. Thanks to Vimes’ rescheduling, she was free after breakfast until midday, when there was a fortuitously pre-booked meeting with General Parmenion, Commander of the Palace Bodyguard. Christine planned to go over the additional security measures with him and together consider any additional ones he might recommend. However, before then she would walk through the gardens as a means to relax so she would meet with him in a calm state of mind.

  Walking into the Refectory, she motioned those newcomers starting to rise to sit down. She smiled warmly at the new faces and nodded in recognition at the more familiar ones. Spotting an empty seat, she walked towards it before sitting down and greeting those on either side of her.

  Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder for a moment whether anyone here today was party to a wider conspiracy. Dismissing the thought as a little paranoid, she signalled the waiters to bring everyone food. Leaning back in her seat she allowed them to begin loading the table with fresh fruits, scrambled eggs, meats and assorted cereals. Once done and the table full, she reached over and helped herself to a glass of fresh orange juice.

  “Please everyone, don’t stand on ceremony, start,” she said, motioning towards the food. At that everyone began to help themselves and started talking to their neighbours, continuing conversations stopped when she’d made her entrance.

  Once talk around the table had reached a point where her pulling back a little wouldn’t be noticed, Christine let it all wash over her whilst mentally picturing the Dukes and Duchesses who potentially had most to gain from the ambush. The majority of the Nobles were from long-established families, in the main descended from Emperor Josef’s original team of scientists and adventurers who were there at the beginning and had helped him forge the Empire. Following the Succession War that took the life of her husband’s parents, four Dukes had been executed, but as Alex had replaced them with old comrades who’d fought by his side and remained loyal, it was easy to dismiss these new nobles from her calculations.

  The planet Heaven was located in Sector Eleven, currently controlled by the Imperial Council on behalf of the young Duke James who would not take control until he was twenty-one years old, some nine years away. Fortunately, this Sector bordered space claimed by the Durotriges, a loose confederation of small, but po
werful human empires that constantly fought amongst themselves rather than encroach on space claimed by the Empire. The long border between themselves and their human neighbours, the Dubunni Empire, was currently peaceful, but Christine knew that Duke Frederick was complaining loudly of problems with Dubunni raiders attacking ships in neutral space and had requested assistance.

  “Is this the flashpoint?” Christine wondered, thinking hard. “A Sector with a young Duke, warring neighbours and they all just happen to be next to each other? Or is this all too obvious? Too many questions and not enough information to go by,” she thought, sighing with frustration and feeling her anger start to bubble through again. “I really do need to work off this feeling or hit something. Hard.”

  “Is everything all right Ma’am?” asked the young man seated on her right, bringing her back to the present.

  She looked at him, noticing properly for the first time that he almost glowed with good health and exuded an air of physical competence. His green-brown eyes were set off by long lashes and with his full sensuous mouth, was very handsome. Long brown hair, bleached several shades lighter by hours spent in the open, framed a face which the sun had deeply tanned from its natural light coffee colour.

  “No, I’m fine, thank you,” she responded, “Just thinking about the day ahead and all the meetings and decisions that have to be made. What about you, anything interesting for you today?”

  He smiled, making his open face even more appealing.

  “Back to tending the woodlands Ma’am. I’m in one of the teams that care for the forests around the Palace and I’m currently working on cleaning and restoring the many statues which are now virtually lost and overgrown. It’s hard physical work, but as I like being in the open air and feeling the sun on my face, it’s something I really enjoy. I often pitch camp where I’m working and sleep outdoors rather than go back to my quarters. Do you ever get much chance to visit the woodlands?” he enquired.

  “Not as much as I would like, although when the Crown Prince was much younger, we often camped out under the stars and pretended to live rough.”

  She chuckled at the old memory that seemed so long ago, although in reality, only ten years had passed. Strangely knocked off balance by the young man, she called up his profile and quickly scanned it.

  “Francis De’ath, thirty years old, single, no living family, clean record, worked in our service for five years, first time at breakfast…. originally from Xipe, a farm planet in Sector 4...” the information flowed through her mind in an instant before coming to an interesting note appended to his profile and highlighted by Vimes, “Honourable discharge from Marines before twelve-month basic training ended upon diagnosis of Berserker rage syndrome brought on by extreme combat conditions. Recommended for Palace service by Duke Michael himself.”

  Slightly taken aback by the last sentence, Christine looked hard at Francis and asked the obvious question. “How do you know Duke Michael, Francis?”

  His smile grew wider at the question, “I don’t Ma’am, but my father did. He saved the Duke’s life during the Succession War, or so I’ve been told. After Dad died in a farming accident, the Duke took me under his wing from a distance, so to speak. I didn’t have anyone to sponsor me into the Marines, so he stepped in and when that…” He paused for a moment and stopped smiling, then continued, “Didn’t work out, he recommended me for service here.”

  “Ah, I see,” said Christine. “I notice from your face there are some painful memories, but as far as I’m concerned the Marines loss is our gain. My husband and I are very pleased to have you here with us and anyone recommended by the Iron Duke himself doubly so.”

  Francis blushed, his face deepening in colour underneath the tan and regaining some of its earlier smile.

  “Thank you, Ma’am, I really appreciate that,” he said, catching her eyes with his own and holding them for a moment before looking down at his food.

  Aware that something had happened in the exchange, Christine nodded and turned away to talk to the matronly figure on her left, making a mental note to watch the progress of this one……

  Breakfast over, Christine waited until the last of her guests had left before finally leaving the Refectory. Instead of heading off for her planned walk through the woods she headed back to her apartments. Reaching her private quarters, she went over to her desk and asked Vimes for a smart-metal station. A hand-sized hole appeared on the right of her desk and she placed her hand into it. Smart-metal began flowing into her bracelet and it steadily grew in size and thickness before extending up from her wrist to elbow. She thought for a few seconds about what design to have before sending it to the metal for incorporation onto its surface. Removing her hand, the pattern had been faithfully incorporated onto the surface of the armband. If required, the metal would change into an anti-personnel weapon.

  Similar to the flechette design incorporated into her personal armour, this was considerably smaller and less powerful, relying on power from either the ever present energy transmissions suffusing the Palace and grounds or, in an emergency, the superconductor batteries cleverly concealed in her clothes and shoes. Until activated, it looked nothing more than a large ornamental armband, easily hidden under her sleeve until required.

  “Just in case,” she thought grimly, then muttered quietly, “Better safe than sorry,” using old expression from her childhood,

  General Parmenion was a patient man, slow to anger and normally very calm. On numerous occasions, colleagues had likened him to a slow burning fuse, one that burnt quietly for a time before exploding violently at the end. It was rare for any kind of alert to be called without informing him first, if only as a courtesy. When coupled with instructions to run “practice” drills throughout the Palace grounds and surrounding woodlands, he knew there must be good reasons to be concerned that he wasn’t yet privy to. This rankled him, but as he had a good working relationship with the Empress he fully expected to be briefed at today’s meeting.

  As a courtesy to him, Christine would normally attend monthly strategy meetings at the Barracks where he lived, situated several miles away in the woodlands to the North-West of the Palace, overlooking a large spaceport that was ringed on all sides by military and associated administrative buildings. For this meeting, however, at the last minute Vimes had changed the venue to a room in the Empresses private quarters overlooking the Palace gardens.

  Various beverages and assorted foods had been laid out next to a floor to ceiling window that ran all along on side of the room. From here the Refectory was clearly visible a few hundred yards away. Behind it lay two large lakes, only partially hidden by a smattering of ancient trees and ornamental gardens. Beyond the garden, trees became more frequent, gradually thickening to become a forest, through which tiny glimpses of two much larger lakes could be seen. Beyond them, and to the left, were the barracks and spaceport, completely hidden from view. Joined by numerous transit tubes, the journey time from his offices was only a few minutes.

  From this centrally placed room, almost all of the Palace was visible, sweeping gracefully in a long arc to both sides. To his right, and at the easternmost tip of the Palace, sat the Grand Hall of the Empire where almost every Emperor had been crowned. Originally a separate building, it had been incorporated into the Palace over a thousand years previously. At the other end of the Palace sat smaller audience rooms used for less imposing meetings or ceremonies.

  As Parmenion debated whether to avail himself of a drink, Vimes informed him that Christine was approaching. Without fanfare, she entered the room a few seconds later and walked towards him, grasping his hand in a firm grip of welcome. Looking Parmenion in the eyes she spoke first.

  “Apologies, Parmenion, for not informing you in advance of the alerts and heightened security. Late last night intelligence came to light of an imminent threat to the Royal family and immediate action was called for, hence why you were not informed in advance.”

  Christine paused for effect before continui
ng, “At this point, we do not know if it is aimed at us here on Capital or elsewhere in the Empire, but we are taking no chances. Vimes has sent an urgent message to inform the Emperor who by now should have completed the Ascension ceremonies at Heaven, in Sector Eleven.”

  Christine never liked misleading people, preferring to be honest and forthright at all times, but the closely guarded secret of instantaneous communication could not be jeopardised, even to someone as completely trustworthy as Parmenion.

  His eye’s narrowed the barest fraction, the only glimpse she could see that the wily old General had any suspicion he was not being told everything, but she knew he would keep any doubts firmly to himself.

  “Can I get you anything, Christine?” Parmenion asked, gesturing at the table in front of him.

  “Tea, as usual, please, with a little milk today,” she replied. “Thank you,” taking the proffered cup and moving with him to stand alongside the window.

  The clean smell of freshly cut grass was being transmitted into the room from outside, reinforcing the illusion of space and airiness given by the large floor to ceiling window.

  “It all looks so peaceful today, you wouldn’t think we control an Empire from here would you, Parmenion?” she stated rather than asked.

  “No Christine, you wouldn’t,” he replied, “but like the swans on the lake over there, we are paddling furiously underwater to maintain a serene demeanour above.”

  Christine smiled, revealing faint laughter lines at the corner of her eyes which were one of the few tell-tales that betrayed her age. “That analogy always makes me smile. It’s so apt for our current situation.”