by David Winnie
“But when you came to me at Xaid’s bequest, an errand boy, to try and collect the Vinithri eggs and our method of designing my heirs, I realized that you no longer served me or my Empire. I should have had you killed then and there. I should have done more to protect my Sophia.”
Salaam started coughing again, wrapping his arms around his stomach and groaning.
“Cassius and I raced to finish my law. That would protect us, I was certain. Surely, with the punishments I had written in, I felt perhaps it would deter Xaid’s ambition,” Angkor looked down. “I was wrong.”
“I expected you would come after me. Sophia was our friend, a friend to all of you. Surely, I would never have expected you to send your lapdog, Salaam, after my wife.”
Blood began to ooze from the corners of Salaam’s mouth, eyes and ears.
“Let me explain what is happening to you, you hashashin dog,” snarled Angkor. “The compound I gave you was formulated off three sets of DNA. You three. I could drink a gallon of the chemical and never get anything more than a mild stomach ache from the volume of fluid.
“For you three, it attacks you two ways. First, stomach acid is very similar to hydrochloric acid. I accelerated your endocrine glands to continually produce this acid. Phase two breaks down the lining of your stomach and thereby the sphincter valve between your stomach and small intestine. Your small intestine draws liquids and nutrients into itself, dispersing the acid throughout your circulatory system.”
Salaam had fallen to the floor, crying and groaning. He worked his jaw, trying to speak through a mouth already clogged with blood. Angkor leaned over the dying assassin. “Does it hurt?” he gloated. “Are your guts on fire? Are your veins ablaze from the acid boiling in your very blood?
“They wouldn’t let me see my wife after they recovered her. They told me she was found in a glade of edelweiss. I was able to get my hands on her autopsy report. The explosion seared her lungs, but not fatally. She had third and fourth degree burns over one hundred percent of her body. Her body, deaccelerating from flight speed to terminal velocity ripped her clothing from her body. At some point, she lost an arm and both her legs because of the speed.
“Can you even conceive, you dog, how badly I want you to hurt right now? If I could, I would make you feel this agony for months and years. I suspect you’ll be dead in a few minutes. Far, far quicker than the fifteen minutes it took my wife to fall to earth.”
Salaam gasped and grunted, his body writhing under Angkor’s watchful gaze. He gave a sudden jerk and squeak, then he was gone.
Angkor settled back in his chair, looking relieved and pleased. “Now for you two,” he said.
“Your antidote will keep you from death for one week. You will report to me to receive your dosage and a further week of life. Serve me well and live. Disobey me or bore me and you will die like this dog. Do not attempt to save any the antidote to manufacture yourself. You are only receiving enough for a single week of life. Further, this is a genetic weapon. I know all of the geneticists who could replicate my formula. The antidote has my mark on it; they will know it if they see it. And they will let me know.
“General, you are to prepare my fleet and build it to defend my Empire. You will work with Admiral Schurenburg and prepare him to replace you within five years. Succeed and I will give you a comfortable retirement. Fail me and die.
“Xaid. You bastard. It’s been you behind all this all along. You, your money, your lust for power. Your well-heeled friends operating above the law. No more.
“I had to finish my law. Thanks the gods above I did before you could act. The law is in place, it is inviolate. It brings the lowest man to the level of the high and mighty. Hear now the decision of the Khan.
“I take away your name. All your properties and possessions are mine. Your family belongs to me. You are no longer a person; you are a thing. Property to be owned. You are worthless. You will be sent to my gardens to toil until the day I tire of you and dispatch you to my composting factory. Guards!”
Two burly soldiers entered the room. The Khan pointed at the thing which had been Xaid and directed, “Take it to its cell. Tell the head gardener he has a new slave.” The guards grabbed the protesting slave, knocking its turban from its head. Long black hair fell. “Wait,” called the Emperor. He picked up a knife and sawed the Singh’s hair and threw it on the floor. The Khan beckoned; the guards pulled the weeping slave from the room.
Dawlish stood and gave the Khan a respectful bow. “You are dismissed,” ordered Angkor. Servants arrived with a gurney. “Take that to my laboratory,” ordered the Khan pointing at Salaam. “They will know what to do.”
Angkor gathered up Sophia’s urn. Clutching her to his chest, the Khan went woodenly down the hall to his chambers. He kicked off his shoes and curled up on his single bed, wrapped a tired body around Sophia and cried himself to sleep.
Chapter 31
August 3073
The Intelligence colonel stood ramrod straight before the Khan. He fixed his eyes to a spot just beyond the Khan’s head. One did not look the Khan in the eye, lest the stare be misconstrued as defiance. His black uniform was impeccable, of course, its grey piping accenting the somber livery. It served its purpose. Often enough the very sight of an Intelligence officer in uniform was enough to cause even innocent suspects to quiver and soil themselves. Of course, if they were being interviewed by Imperial Intelligence, there was likely a good cause for the fecal accident.
“Sir, this is the data stick we found in the recorder on his desk,” he said matter-of- factly. “The message addresses you directly. It is the opinion of Intelligence that you should view the file.”
Angkor rolled the data stick between his fingers before placing it in the port on his desk. The holo image of Dawlish seated behind his own desk appeared.
“My Khan,” the holo stated, “I have faithfully served this uniform, first with distinction in the Turkman Army in my youth. When your father called, I proudly served as Chief of Staff of the Terran Union Army. You asked me to rebuild your Army and your Fleet when you became Emperor. I have done so with humility and gratitude with the faith you have shown me.
I have betrayed your faith. Worse still, I took advantage of our friendship, manipulating you to Xaid’s desires and to my own.
In the end, my worst disloyalty to you was to facilitate the murder of the Empress. I justified my decision by convincing myself that if we demonstrated our power, you would acquiesce to our demands.
I misjudged you. The starry-eyed medical student I knew back in Delhi would not have been capable of such savagery and revenge. I should have known, having been a firsthand witness to what you did to the old tea-seller.
My Khan, you charged me with creating an Army and Fleet to defend your Empire. I have done so. You have charged me to make Admiral Schurenburg ready to assume my job within five years. He is now ready. Therefore, my duty to you is at an end.
Angkor, I wish I could call you friend again. But I relinquished that right the moment Sophia’s shuttle exploded. Your punishment was of the utmost cruelty and still, befitting. I have appeared before you every week and begged for my life. Each time I drank your elixir, I died on the inside. Each week facing you, guilty of murdering my friend, Sophia, and being disloyal to my oaths to you.
It has become too great a burden for me to bear. I cannot live another day with my shame.”
He placed a slug thrower against his left temple.
“Long live the Terran Empire! Long live the Emperor, Angkor Khan! May you rule for a thousand years!”
The report of the weapon was loud, sharp. The pressure wave from the low velocity round compressed his brain until the right side of his skull warped and fractured, sending bone, flesh and hair across the room. A scarlet fan of blood and tissue followed.
Dawlish collapsed facedown onto his desk, his heart fibrillating spastically as the signals from his brain ceased. Blood poured from the wound until his heart, too uncoordinated to p
ump any longer, stopped.
Angkor noticed a split second before the holo faded that someone had started to pick up the recorder. He removed the data stick, twisting it in his fingers again, then handed it to the Colonel.
“The body was dismembered per protocol,” the colonel reported. “The remnants scattered into various compost factories around Terra. There will be an announcement of his death, of course. His family has been encouraged not to have any services. There is still the issue with the slave.”
“Send it to Luna Station,” instructed Angkor. “Exo-bio research. I expect it to be disposed of within a month.”
The colonel nodded. “It shall be done, my Khan,” he replied. “I shall place the order immediately. The data stick will be sealed in the General’s file.”
“His case is closed, then.”
“No, my Khan,” the colonel answered. “There are still interesting…anomalies in his file. We will be investigating those anomalies until the Director is satisfied there is no more information to be extracted.”
“What happens with the file at that point?”
“A closed file goes into long term storage,” said the Colonel. “The Director feels information, no matter how obscure, is power.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” the Khan said. “You are dismissed.”
The Colonel clicked his heels in the manner of an ancient Prussian officer, turned sharply and marched to the door.
“One more question,” called the Emperor, rather delighting in the Colonel’s abrupt cessation of movement. “Who does Intelligence maintain records on?”
“Intelligence maintains records on all who serve the Empire,” said the Colonel, “and anyone who gains our attention.”
“Does Intelligence maintain a file on me?” Angkor asked.
The Colonel stiffened.
“Imperial Intelligence maintains files on everyone who serves the Empire,” he said.
Angkor had secured a laboratory of his own following Sophia’s murder. Within a year, he had developed the poison he used to exact his revenge on the perpetrators of that crime. Now, two years later, the lab had become his refuge.
He maintained a small staff for any number of projects that attracted his attention. The actual time he was able to spend in his retreat was limited; he still had his duties in Ulaan Baatar and Zurich. He was also expected to routinely tour the fifteen colonies that made up his Empire.
But, when the opportunity presented itself, it would not be uncommon for him to be found amongst the scanners and tools of his chosen profession. His staff would boast of his stamina, staring into an electron microscope at the inner workings of mitochondrial DNA from a sample for days straight, reporting the chemical markers he found and relaying the sequence. His attention to detail was a marvel, his curiosity boundless. His staff redoubled their efforts when Doctor Angkor was in the office, not wanting to fail their mentor in any fashion.
His legendary focus was on a protein sample obtained on an asteroid in the Mer system. The sample itself was barely a dozen of cells in any one direction. Angkor had seen the preliminary scans and taken an interest. He signed on to studying the sample closer and was deeply engaged when the visitor chime sounded. It was not time for lunch and his schedule for the day was clear; he had verified that this morning with his secretary. Ergo, unless the Galactic Council was invading (and that was quite unlikely, for if they had, security wouldn’t be politely signaling him, they would have already smashed open his door and dragged him to safety,) then it was a distraction he could ignore.
The chime interfered again. So, while it was below the level of invasion, the caller clearly thought their need was greater than Angkor’s peace and quiet. It certainly better be! as Angkor pressed the button for his comm.
Doctor Elian Lumburg appeared before him via the holo. “Ellie!” exclaimed the Khan. “Wonderful to see you! To what do I owe this pleasure and disturbance?”
“Doctor Angkor, it’s good to see you,” she said. “Listen, if you’re not too busy, one of my teams has made a discovery I think you’d be interested in? It involves your heirs project. I’ve sent a pipper. It should be at your lab presently.”
The door chimed. “It’s here now, Elian,” Angkor said.
“Excellent. We’ll see you shortly, Doctor.”
The pipper was the invention from the engineering student in Occident, the device that had brought Sophia’s holo to the unholy triad’s dinner party. A metallic disk about eight inches in diameter, it held a miniature lift plate and a holo emitter. Programed with an image of the owner, it acted as an escort or messenger, albeit with a limited vocabulary and intelligence.
Angkor hated the device.
A holo of Elian greeted him at the door. “Good afternoon, Doctor. If you would come with me?” They proceeded through the sprawling complex beneath the Keep in the Khangai Mountains. Angkor thought highly of Doctor Elian Lumburg from their time on the Vinithri queen project. Hence, he had named her as director of this complex, working closely hand in hand with the Heir File Committee and Master Ng.
He observed the progress of the children. They were nearly teens now, and a lively bunch. The intelligence progress was astounding; already two held doctorates, four others were nearly writing their theses. The children’s physical prowess was never in doubt. Were he to allow them to compete, he very much doubted there was any life form at this level of physical age who could match them. Indeed, they could most likely outperform most adults.
Master Ng expressed concern at the children’s emotional development. While they got along well with each other and their proctors, they appeared oddly undisciplined at times. It was probably due to their lack of interaction with parents, and was a recent development of the last seven year years.
Since their Grandmother Sophia had died.
She had been a constant in the children’s lives. She never missed visiting with them daily while she was at the Keep and rarely went more than a month without seeing them. “The children are reacting to the loss of Grandmother in this way,” said Ng. “They have plenty of adults around them. But no adult family member. It leaves them hurt, feeling alone in the universe.”
Angkor tried. His own father, Tenzing, was rarely available when Angkor was the age of these heirs, and when he was available he was stiff, formal. Only after Suishin’s death had the two been able to communicate. Although Angkor could certainly understand his father’s word over his brother’s grave; “I’m glad it is you who are here with me today, Angkor. This is how the plan said it would be, although today I would give anything for it not to be so.”
The Khan prayed, even as the virtual holo continued, that he would never have to stand over the grave of Buru or any of his grandchildren.
“We are here, Sir.” The holo had stopped at a nondescript door marked “Forensics Lab 2 Doctor Theodore Gebow”. The holo pressed the door chime and deresolved when the door opened, leaving the messenger disk hovering waist high. Angkor resisted the urge to kick at it; he really hated the damned things.
“Doctor Angkor, welcome!” Elian called. “Please, I’d like you to meet Doctor Gebow.”
Theodore Gebow was a short, heavy Terran, with unruly curly white hair and thick black framed glasses sitting on a pimply nose. He had a white goatee and dressed oddly, surgical pants and a rumbled plaid shirt that was crookedly buttoned. The pocket held a collection of implements Angkor didn’t want to consider.
“Oh, my,” Doctor Gebow’s eyes bugged beneath his thick glasses. Glasses? wondered Angkor, In this day and age? I have heard there were those on who corrective gene therapy didn’t work. But they were generally left blind.
“Doctor Gebow, I am Doctor Angkor. I am pleased to meet you,” Angkor said. “Elian said you have a discovery I would be interested in?”
Doctor Gebow’s awe of the Emperor was obvious as he stared for several moments, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. Elian gave him a nudge. “Oh, right, the S subject,” He hurried to his desk stati
on. “I have been assigned to examining subject S since his being brought here two years ago. The cause of death was extraordinary! He was…dissolved from his own gastric juices.”
The stasis chamber in the center of the lab went from opaque to clear. Angkor felt a surge of pleasure. The stasis had been applied to Salaam close enough to his death that the anguish on his face was clear, frozen in time. The blood had stopped flowing from the body, but it still glistened, appeared fresh. Angkor only wished he could have slowed down the melting process. It would have been more gratifying had Salaam been forced to suffer longer.
“I was examining his neural processes, first in the affected area, then those radiating outwards towards the brain.” Doctor Gebow sounded like a professor in Angkor’s college days. “When I got to a relatively clear section of nerves, I found an anomaly.” An arm with a cylinder attached to the end lowered itself from the ceiling and hovered over the body’s chest. “As you can see, Doctors, the nerve cluster here appears normal. But when I looked closer at the nerve endings,” The image on the screen zoomed in, exposing the end of the nerve cells. “You can just make it out…here.”
Angkor examined the image more closely. What appeared was a normal looking nerve endings, except…” Doctor Gebow, would you transfer this image to the hologram imager?” Angkor heard the clatter of a keyboard, the image transferred to the projector in the middle of the lab. There it was, amongst the cilia of the nerve endings. A thin silver thread. “That can only be a micron thick!” exclaimed Angkor, “What is it?”
“Point seven five microns actually, Doctor Angkor,” said Theodore. “And my analysis identifies it as Thembrodium, a rare element found on worlds that have or have had salty oceans at one time. It develops from nerve cluster decomposition, crystalizing into a very tiny element. It is extraordinarily dense and conductive, perhaps as much as ten times the speed of human nerves. The element is so rare; an ounce is valued on today’s market at one million credits for a single troy ounce.”
