“You will not mention Mr. Frank outside of this office,” Parsons said. “He is the chief officer of the Imperium’s Covert Service Operation.”
“Really?” I asked. “I have heard rumors, but none of us really knows anything more.”
“That is because it is a secret, my lord. You should not know of us unless you run afoul of the service. Ideally, even then it should look as if another agency is involved.”
My ears perked up. “Us? You are a member? How long? What else have you done?”
“That is need-to-know only, my lord.”
I felt a thrill race down my back. “Tell me more,” I urged them. “Do you have to swear me to secrecy? Take a blood oath?”
“Do you require one, my lady?” Parsons asked. “I can obtain a razor and a carafe.”
I made a face at him. “Ha ha,” I laughed hollowly, my face drawn into disapproving lines, then I shot a suspicious glance at my mother. “He is making a joke at my expense, isn’t he? There is no blood oath?”
“We’ll waive it,” my mother said, flicking a hand. “For now. I will go on your word, son. It has always been good, when it is given.”
I blushed at that, knowing how many times she had not asked for my word, and I had considered myself free to disobey the house rules. But when offered, it was always kept. I straightened my back and looked directly into her eyes. “I pledge my word of honor that I will not reveal to anyone anything you tell me is confidential, not even if my life is threatened.”
“That will do,” Mother said, with a smile. She returned to her chair and clasped her hands upon her desk. Parsons took his place beside her, a pose he had taken many times over my life. He looked natural there, a paragon and a protector of one of my most precious people. I was rather proud of the alliteration, and thought of declaiming it, but the moment was too serious. I had just been offered a purpose, and wished to give no reason for it to be withdrawn. “Sit down, Thomas. It will take some time to explain what we want of you. Do you want a drink?”
“No, thank you, Mother.” My nerves were coping with a surge of adrenaline the likes of which I had not experienced since the pirate captain fired a round past my ear. I beckoned to a chair at the side of the room. It rolled out to me, as eager to be of service as I was. I perched on the edge of its seat.
“There has been no communication from the Castaway Cluster for some months now,” Mother said. “Emperor Shojan wants to reestablish relations so that we can expand into the space beyond it. Up until now it has been less than a priority.”
“For which I read not profitable,” I said with a narrowed and summing eye.
“A pithy but not entirely inaccurate statement, my lord,” Parsons said. I wriggled like a puppy to get another fact right. He gave me a bland look that reminded me I was in a serious briefing, but it was hard to remain neutral of face in a secret conference that was of vital interest to the Imperium. I did my best. I echoed Parsons’s expression. He gave me a look that could have been approval or disdain, and continued. “There have been few reasons in recent decades to exploit the star cluster. Its distance, coupled with the presence of the black hole between the last outpost of the active Imperium and the Cluster—”
“Smithereen,” I said, smug in my knowledge.
Parsons ignored my interruption. “—precludes most casual contact. It has few unique resources. It has remained at the periphery of the Imperium’s attention. Many other matters have taken priority until now. But the Costadetev Federation beyond it is stretching toward our boundaries along the same axis as the Castaway Cluster. The star field beyond, which has been a fallow province until now, is becoming a frontier. Those systems have traditionally been considered part of the Imperium, but never settled. The Emperor wants to lay claim directly. The Trade Union is also rushing to claim that sector.”
“But we already own it,” I protested.
“Possession has traditionally been physical, not nominal. The planets in those systems are gas giants or small, distant, barren rocks, all uninhabitable, therefore they have never been settled. To confirm the Imperium’s rights, we would have to place a settlement in orbit around a planet if not on one, and show viable trade routes. In order to do that, we need to reestablish our hold over the Cluster, because it will be our administration arm in that area. Those eight stars have been self-governing for a long time, but have up until recently acknowledged their ties to the Imperium.”
“What changed?” I asked, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees. I felt as if I was listening to a story. It was as good as any of the three-dees my friends and I watched, full of suspense and intrigue, with the fate of worlds at stake. “What is happening?”
Parsons would have been a failure as a scriptwriter. “We are not certain,” he said flatly. “An envoy was sent, but she has not been heard from since arriving in the Cluster. Communication has been cut off for some months now. No messages or updates in Infogrid files, though the latter has always been sporadic despite Imperium rules. No trade or commerce has been recorded between the Castaway Cluster and the Core Worlds, or anywhere else that can be discerned since that time.”
“Pirates? Natural disaster? Did the black hole eat up the entire group?”
Mother swatted down my flight of fancy with a firm hand. “Telemetry from my ships indicates that the stars are all still there, Thomas, and I would appreciate it if you would lock up your overactive imagination. This is important.”
I subsided. “I apologize, Mother. What is it that you want me to do? I’ll help in any way I can.”
She smiled. “I knew you would. Commander, this is your department, not mine.”
I turned my full attention to that noble being, putting as much eagerness and good will into my gaze as possible. Parsons seemed unimpressed, but he always did.
“We need to provide an envoy, my lord, ostensibly to make friendly overtures on behalf of the Emperor, but to investigate what is the cause of the Cluster’s silence. It had been dwindling for some time, but there were always trade routes, some messages, culture and other offerings coming from the eight systems, but lately nothing at all has come from any of them. This suggests a concerted effort by the cluster, but for reasons we do not know. At present his majesty suspects that they have been wooed away from the Imperium by the Trade Union or Costadetev, which supports a large population of insectoids and reptilian races. The Castaway Cluster contains a smaller proportion of humans than many sectors, though it should not matter with Imperium-born beings. But it is a delicate matter, to march in and accuse an entire system of treason. Therefore, the matter has to be investigated with the utmost tact. It is a matter of Imperium security that the truth be known, so that the correct action can be taken to keep the Castaway Cluster in the fold—or rather, to restore it to the bosom of the Imperium. The matter of Cluster independence is moot, because the Imperium can easily overpower it and take over again, but that would not address the reason that it has lost touch in the first place. It simply should not have been neglected. Emperor Shojan will see that it is not in future, but until then, he needs information. It will be your duty to help obtain it.”
Excited and pleased, I was almost bouncing at the thought of such a mission.
“Ah! I get to perform espionage?” I was thrilled beyond words. “Shall I be assigned spy tools and devices? I have just bought a new camera that I think will be a great asset to covert intelligence.” I reached into my sleeve for the control to my pocket secretary and activated it. A minute dot of brass as small as a housefly lifted up from my tunic front, where it had been masquerading as a decorative stud. I sent the tiny camera to hover before Parsons’s nose. “It is the Chey Snap 8. The very newest on the market. It is so small that no one will spot it, but it takes marvelous pictures.”
Mother shook her head. “Very nice, dear, but no.”
Parsons reached into a gray pocket on his very gray uniform and produced a gray and featureless device. Instantly, the Chey and the Optique fell
to the floor. Protesting, I dove for them.
“You didn’t have to do that!”
As I gathered up my abused property, Parsons continued. “Your job would be as the envoy. I would be the espionage agent. As I was on Smithereen.”
I looked up, my hands full of cameras. “What? On Smithereen Admiral Podesta sent me to review the volunteer troops. I understood that it was a compliment to this particular militia that he was sending me, a member of the royal house.”
“You were the cover for the real mission, my darling,” Mother said, her expression one of pity. I scrambled to my feet. Neither camera would respond to my commands. Parsons restored his device to its place of concealment. I stuck my cameras in my pocket.
“I? Mine was the mission: to inspect the troops and press the flesh.”
“Do you know how seldom that happens?”
“Yes, on the average of once every three years. Chan told me. She’d make a good officer, Mother, really,” I added, thinking of how cool a head the volunteer captain had displayed, and how readily she had obeyed my commands. “One would think that she performed complex and dangerous maneuvers like that every day. You should snap her up.”
“She earns about fifteen times what a low-ranking officer does, darling. It wouldn’t be worth her while to start over again at OTC.” I was taken aback. I hadn’t thought about money. “But I am glad she served well for you. I hate to disabuse you of your impression, but the review itself was an unimportant assignment so that Parsons would have the freedom to make a connection that was necessary to the safety of the Imperium.”
“Indeed,” I said, fixing them both with a cold eye. “Unimportant? And when was I going to be informed of this subterfuge?”
“I would have thought never, darling,” my mother said. “In a perfect situation, he would have completed his assignment and returned to retrieve you without a hitch. As it turned out, you had disappeared, caused a riot, and, yes, perpetrated a daring capture—nearly. Though he did manage to complete his assignment, and against all expectations you came here this morning to offer your services to the Imperium. That is why we are having the discussion now at all.”
I was crushed.
“That ‘nearly’ strikes me like a death blow to the heart, Mother.”
She raised her brows again. “I told you I agreed with Omar Podesta. It was not your assignment. Though you handled yourself as I would expect a son of mine to do. You were courageous and resourceful, both qualities that would be of use to us in this matter.”
I was mollified by a generous ladling on of complimentary adjectives. The more I thought about it, the knowledge of espionage going on right under my nose tickled me. I was still cross that I hadn’t known it, but it would hardly have been undercover if I had. “Really, Mother, this doesn’t sound as much fun as I was hoping. Why can’t I be the spy?”
“Because you have a more important role to play,” Parsons said. “It will be your task to distract attention from me and my investigations. It is vital that I not be detected and stopped until I have the information the Emperor requires.”
“Decoy,” I said, bitterly. “I shall make a marvelous target while you have all the fun.”
“Your talents in one direction far outstrip mine, my lord.”
“What? In photography? In a moment you will show me a long list of galleries that feature your work. I already know that you can outfence me and outfly me.”
Parsons looked imperturbable. “No, my lord. It is more fundamental than that. I cannot do what you do, and that necessitates that you be the one to act as envoy, not I.” He shot a look at my mother. She hesitated a long while, then nodded. I turned a puzzled glance to each of them in turn.
Mother eyed me seriously. “Do you know truly what it means to be a member of the ruling class of the Imperium?”
“Responsibility,” I said promptly. “Since one of us might be called upon to become Emperor, we must understand our relationship to the citizens of the Imperium. I hope I have remembered all the lessons that you have pounded into me—intellectually, of course. You would never think that my lady mother would manhandle me physically, would you, Parsons?”
“Never, sir,” he said blandly.
“I am afraid that there is more to it than that,” Mother said.
“Well, fealty, honor, support . . .” From the subtle head-shakes I saw that my further essays into the thesaurus were getting me nowhere. “I give up, Mother.”
She looked deeply into my eyes, the blue-green a sea of worries. “Thomas, if anything, this is more secret than what we have already told you. And if you tell another soul, I will see to it that you are seconded to an outdated exploration vessel in the remotest reaches of the outer spiral arm for a ten-year mission in search of Old Earth.”
“I say, that might be amusing,” I said. “Uncle Laurence always says he knows where it is.” But their faces were even more serious than they had been before. The blood chilled in my body. The words came out rather more slowly than they had before, but they came. “My word to you, Mother.”
Parsons removed another discreet gray object and set it on a circuit of the room. It lit upon the pocket containing my cameras. Numbers filled the air, followed by a repeat of the conversation that I had used it to record. My face burned with shame.
“Cheeky,” Mother said. “Anything else?” she asked Parsons.
“No, madam,” he said.
She let out a long exhalation of breath. “Very well. Sit down, Thomas.”
Chapter 25
The room seemed to get smaller and more intimate. I reached for the chair and had it scoot me up to the very edge of the desk.
“How would you govern a very large area, Thomas?” Mother asked.
I put the brain cells to work. I had taken current affairs classes all throughout school, but the stars knew how little of it seemed to apply to my life, so I dismissed much of it. I did recall stories of the ancient empires of humanity that I had seen in videos.
“Well, you know, make laws that legislate common behavior for the benefit of the greatest number possible. Provide infrastructure for trade and protection for the citizenry. Put wise minds in places of authority, with checks and balances on them,” I added, though I’d never quite been certain as to what “checks and balances” denoted.
“And how would you enforce those laws?”
“Well, some kind of patrol. Centralized, so that everything is dispensed in an evenhanded manner.”
“Where?”
“Well, in the capital,” I said. Police and emergency response teams were based in Taino. Each city on Keinolt has several precincts, and each small town had an office as well. I had fallen afoul of many of them over my life, as well my mother knew it.
“And when your domain stretches out over the distance of several planets? How do you keep lawlessness from spreading once your central government is far away? Once your capital city is removed not just kilometers, but possibly light years away? What is to keep them following your laws?”
“Internal sense of right and wrong?” I offered, but it was a feeble suggestion. “I am not the person to ask, I am afraid. I’ve been known to go off the straight and narrow many times in my life, though in minor ways, I assure you. I would never harm the Imperium.”
“But human nature being what it is, others would,” Mother said. “As soon as all this useful infrastructure is in place, what would stop a planet from breaking away from the Imperium and declaring itself its own sovereign entity?”
“Loyalty?” I asked, though it sounded as weak as my last suggestion. But a broad smile spread across Mother’s face, and even Parsons looked a trifle less disapproving.
“Precisely,” Parsons replied. “Internalized obedience to authority.”
I scoffed. “People don’t just blindly follow orders.”
“They do, my lord. Particularly in crowds. There is a body of work that is found in distant pre-Imperium history showing a direct correlation. Before
any modification is introduced, approximately two-thirds of the population can be persuaded to obey to extremes by mere verbal prodding alone, no coercion involved. Even independent-minded persons can be persuaded to follow the orders of someone they feel has the right to give those orders.”
“The right to rule, or the appearance?” I asked.
“In this case, the latter suggests the former.”
“Because someone looks as if he or she can command, the people will follow?”
“A base simplification,” Parsons said. “Humanity naturally separates itself into leaders and followers. Your ancestors took advantage of this proclivity, observing the demarcation between the ‘sheep’ and the ‘goats,’ as it were. Leadership fell to those who had a predilection for it, and genetic selection was made to breed for those traits most acceptable to the greater population.”
I frowned. “What about the Culver-Rho Experiment?” One of the things I did recall from our history was a disastrous period in which genetic modification was seen as the be-all and end-all of adapting to survive in the harsh reality of space. Unrestricted tinkering produced so many freakish beings that humanity very nearly did not survive, as few of the modified humans could breed. Catastrophe, illness, war and famine took shocking toll on nearly every settlement. Our population was reduced to a few millions across forty systems. Only the dedication and doggedness of the leaders, my imperial ancestors among them, brought together enough of the surviving “normals” to restore humankind. It was then that reproductive restriction was brought into law; it had been with us ever since, a relic of those bad old days. It was intended to make certain that those who tested positive for unwanted genetic characteristics did not pollute the gene pool. I had seen images in files on the Infogrid that still gave me nightmares.
“An unreserved fiasco,” Parsons agreed. “Humanity has learned its lesson since then. The maneuvering that has taken place since then is much more subtle and direct. Geneticists identified physical traits that the majority of the population found to represent trustworthiness and wisdom. Among them were perfect left-right symmetry and certain proportions among the features. Those physical characteristics involved include a broad forehead, defined, straight brows, large, clear eyes, vertical temples, cheekbones that do not protrude beyond them outwardly but are well defined, strong chin that protrudes slightly beyond the vertical plane of the face behind it. The mouth must be strong, with lips neither outsize nor undersize for the face. Noses are a matter of cultural taste. As it happens, you have a ‘command’ nose, though neither of your siblings do.”
The View from the Imperium Page 33
