I finished the very fine drink and placed the empty snifter back on the table. The malignant smile wouldn't leave my face. I would have paid a million credits just to see my former wife's face. She was probably looking up information on the character I told her I was meeting, reading carefully and looking at the portrait of a young, doll-faced girl. Then she'd read it again and look in the mirror... Let her compare two princesses and consider how irresistible she really is in my eyes for me to have to bear her scolding and threats every five minutes.
I had found the pretty face of the unmarried princess by complete coincidence while looking over the stellar transportation map and studying the states that control this or that corner in the warp beacon network. The Kingdom of Veyerde was not in Sector Eight but was a vassal of the Orange House, so let Marta think up a reason for my interest in the young Princess on her own.
In exactly half an hour, Marta sent another videochat invitation, but that time I accepted it.
"Georg, what is it, are you drunk? Or have you lost the last remnant of your brain?" as usual, my scandal-loving ex-wife opened with a shrieking, hysterical tone.
"It's actually the other way around, Marta. For the first time in so many years of drunkenness, I've finally sobered up. I take my affairs and fate seriously now, after receiving full approval from the Emperor for any, even less popular steps I’ve made..."
"How can you allow yourself to behave this way with me?" interjected Marta. "You've already been deprived of Tialla, and now it depends on me alone whether you'll walk this world with your hand outstretched or not."
"You think so?" I laughed. "Then let me make you really sad, Marta. I no longer have a need for your financial backing. And without the ships of your fleet, I will also manage just fine. So you can keep your blackmail to yourself. The times have changed. You just haven't figured it out yet."
"The Kingdom of Veyerde?" asked Marta, and I understood that I had predicted her behavior quite accurately. "It isn't as rich as mine. And that girl Astra is already engaged, too."
"I don't know what you're talking about and I don't want to. But by the way, the Kingdom of Veyerde is a vassal of the Orange House and will do whatever Duke Paolo royl Anjer orders. So, please, send the divorce papers as soon as possible. There's no hope left. Stop dragging your feet."
"Well, now things have changed! I'll never do it now! You'll come back on your knees begging for me to sign!" Marta revealed her inconsistency at its finest. First she blackmailed me with divorce, and when I suddenly turned out not to be opposed, she sharply changed her point of view.
"Well, whatever. If that's all, I'm hanging up..."
"No, wait!" Marta hurried to scream out this sentence so as not to lose the chance. "You've changed a lot, Georg; I don't recognize you anymore. Tell me honestly, what's happened?"
"Marta, after all your streams of curses, threats, blackmail and unfriendly actions, give me just one reason why I should be honest with you. Give me just one reason why I should be with you at all!"
She answered with silence, and I, with clean conscience, hung up.
* * *
"I haven't been able to reach you for two days now. Miya and I were starting to get worried something had happened. What can you tell me? Did you have to make a report before the Emperor?" Mr. G.I. appeared in my dream quite tactlessly, interrupting a cheerful vision of summer, the beach, grilling, and friends.
"It's not surprising you couldn't reach me. I spent two days in a prison cell in the Throne World in full isolation."
"Come now, it can't have gone that bad with the report on the condition of the fleet?!" I picked up on clearly panicked notes in his voice.
"The report couldn't have gone better. All Green House accusations have been cleared up, and you got full approval from the Emperor. August royl Toll even personally gave me a hundred fifty million credits for buying new ships for the fleet. But then, after the meeting, it got worse – Popori de Cacha killed Keno and Rigo Lavaelle."
"Yes, I know them. Those twin brothers always infuriated me with their chicanery, so it serves them right. But who is Popori de Cacha?" wondered Georgiy.
I took a deep sigh, struck by how weak the Prince's knowledge of his own servants was.
"That is your personal chameleon bodyguard. You should be ashamed not to know!"
"What, I have to memorize the names of all my servants now?! I asked the chameleons not to show up so they wouldn't annoy me all the time. How'd it end then?"
"Well, to put it very briefly, in the end you were released with a stern wag of the finger and a demand to occupy yourself with fleet matters and not get involved in politics. The only thing is that the Green House has included you in the list of criminal elements subject to termination if present in their territory."
Mr. G.I. started laughing:
"Not a huge loss. I didn't have any plans to mess around in Sectors Four or Five anyway."
I did not join him in rejoicing and demanded strictly:
"So now, explain to me how it happened that two players died, though you claimed that death was nothing to be afraid of."
Georgiy objected after a short pause:
"I didn't tell you that death is never something to be afraid of. It's just that if there is a chance of survival, the player will always survive and be patched up in the medical center. If not, that's all, game over, create a new character and load up the game afresh. So, protect my body, it's in our shared interest!"
* * *
I was awoken by the smell of coffee. Not having opened my eyes yet, I was already imagining a mug of the aromatic, hot beverage on the table next to my bed. I opened my eyes and began beaming an idiotic smile. My dream had come true!
"Good morning, master!" Bionica, in her best dress, was placing a sugar bowl and a dish of crispy sweet rolls on the table.
"And good morning to you. Hot coffee in bed was a great idea!"
The robot straightened up and said:
"The ground and roasted nuts of the firo tree from planet Anbach-VI are called coffee. I will learn it. That word wasn't in any of the dictionaries downloaded to my memory. Coffee." Bionica repeated the word again, clearly trying to memorize the new term.
After trying the coffee, I could barely hide my disappointment. It wasn't coffee. The smell was the same, but the taste was closer to hot dry-fruit compote. Nevertheless, I thanked the android for the gesture. Bionica smiled:
"I thought about it for a long time. I wasn't prepared to make a choice. On one hand, masters usually have a positive reaction to breakfast in bed. They like being greeted in the morning and brought a light breakfast. No one was doing this for your Highness, and I could take that role on myself. On the other hand, people don't like when someone comes into their personal space without asking, and the bedroom is generally considered one of those 'personal spaces.' I couldn't decide how to act, but then I considered it important to tell your Highness two pieces of news. First, over the last few days I have completely memorized all terms from the star fleet dictionaries and found their translations to the languages of the Iseyek and chameleons. Now I'm completely ready to work as an interpreter for the fleet commander. Second, an unknown employer has paid in advance for the year-long contract that comes into force after my service to your Highness has finished."
I instantly remembered the Emperor's unambiguous order and grew sad.
"Bionica, your new contract doesn't have a very good chance of coming into effect. There's some news that's important to you as well..."
The android listened as I told her the news about the Emperor's order and, for her part, she maintained her imperturbable exterior.
"Don't be upset, master. I figured out right away that my contract with the Crown Prince would be ending in exactly this way. Do not worry, I'll carry out my duties right up until the very last second of the contract."
"Look at you, a walking hunk of metal... I asked you to turn up your humanity setting to maximum! It can't be that hard to mak
e a sad face, can it? I'm getting the impression that saving your life is more important to me than it is to you! The Emperor ordered it 'on completion of contract,' but didn't give any limits to the length of the contract. Can I extend your employment contract by a few years right now?"
"Of course you can. The maximum possible initial employment period for an android is twenty five years. It can be extended thereafter an unlimited number of times."
"So then, why is this an issue? I gave you the right to take care of day-to-day matters in my name. Extend your own contract by twenty-five years."
Bionica smiled in gratitude, then spoiled the whole impression given by her pretty, human smile when she declared in a lifeless, totally mechanical voice:
"My Prince, due to programmed-in restrictions, I am required to inform my master about important changes in the conditions. The price of my year-long contract next year is one hundred seventy thousand credits, and I do not have the right to charge your Highness any less."
A not-safe-for-work reply ripped itself from my lips. Someone really, really wants to buy Bionica after her service with Prince Georg. One hundred seventy thousand credits! That's just unthinkably expensive for a contract with an android. That means the client isn't so much interested in the android itself, as much as the information in its memory banks.
"I accept. Pay the twenty-five-year contract at that price before they get it up any higher. Bionica, you are now the richest android translator in the Universe!"
Bionica became clearly embarrassed:
"The majority of the money goes to the company that manufactured me. I will personally only get eleven percent. And that's good. A few years back it was just four percent, barely enough for clothes. My Prince, the contract has been paid. Four million eighty thousand credits have been transferred from your account. Remaining account balance: two million credits. And I simply don't' have the words to describe my feelings! No human has ever done anything like that for an android. My thankfulness to you is simply running over. I'll put all my effort forward so your Highness will not regret this decision!"
The Brotherhood of the Stars
"There it is, the Orange House Space Military Academy!" the shuttle approached the huge, many-mile-long, ring-shaped space station, and Patrick toyl Sven quite carelessly veered the shuttle to the right so as to fit between two tall spires.
"No need to hurry, we have plenty of time before the ceremony begins!" After the landing on the Throne World, I was already dealing with flight much better but still didn't like sharp maneuvers.
The shuttle slid into the outstretched robotic arm and stopped at the airlock, marked with lights, which allowed a magnetic arm to pick us up and pull our ship into the station. The headmaster of the Space Military Academy met me right as I got off. The old, important-looking, mustached man had come out personally to meet his important guest.
"Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle, it fills me with joy to have the honor of welcoming such a highly placed guest to our academic institution. The graduates are already gathering in the large hall. As I understood from your message, you'd like to give them a speech?"
"That's right. Today, your fledglings will leave the nest and choose from among many employers' offers that which is most to their taste. At the end of your official part, immediately before the right of choosing, I'd like to give a little speech."
"Prince Georg, in that case, you'll have to wait almost an hour and a half..." said the headmaster, somewhat upset.
"No matter, I'll wait in the stands. Do you think I could get the personal records of the most capable graduates to familiarize myself with?"
The headmaster grew embarrassed. Clearly that wasn't something they were supposed to do, but still he gave his permission. I went up into the box for important guests and looked over the perfect rectangles of lined-up graduates. Two thousand young people, who today will become full-fledged pilots, navigators, tacticians... Teachers and leaders of the Academy said various things on their many years of difficult work, about their pride for the new class, about the big world opening up before the graduates, and all the while I waited patiently, looking through personal records, selectively noting the candidates with the best perspectives. Finally, the Academy headmaster announced that a member of the Orange House of the Empire, Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle, would be saying a few words.
I noted to myself that a few of the graduates, having grown bored over the hour-and-a-half-long ceremony suddenly jumped back to life. Obviously, they don't see members of Imperial upper aristocracy very often. It might have even been their first time. I stood and saw myself on the big screen – a dark-blue, severe uniform with green epaulets, a proud profile and a strong gaze. A true fleet commander!
"Graduates, I have looked over the job offers and vacancies sent by potential employers on the occasion of your graduation. It should be said that I am quite disenchanted. What most of them need are good-looking boys for transporting decrepit old ladies on their trips through the galaxy; pretty, uninhibited girls for rich millionaires; and guards for corporation transports. If any of you has sought out such a fate for yourself, you can go; I don't need such graduates. My words are intended only for those of you who remember why the Imperial Combat Fleet exists in the first place!"
No one stirred or left the fastidiously-arranged rows. I waited a few seconds and continued:
"Just a few days ago, a diplomat of an allied race complained to me that humanity cuts its path through the Universe like a bushwhacker, relying on strength and destroying the weak. And yes, we really have gone to war with forty-eight races and completely wiped out eighteen of them. All of them were our enemies, and eliminating them cleared the path for the more capable and strong in the future. But now, for the first time in millennia, our race has come across those who are stronger than us and want to cross us out of the future! I'm talking about the aliens.
Don't believe the reports of victory. Yes, the Red House recently was able to take down a couple of enemy destroyers in Sector Fourteen, but they lost more than seventy combat ships in doing so. All the news channels reported the battle as a victory, but left out the fact that the emergency evacuation of residents of remote systems has begun. The Orange House battle at the Vorta beacon was also reported as a victory, as were other skirmishes with the aliens. But every one of those times they hushed up the fact of how high a price humanity paid for these victories. At present, we lose around thirty to fifty military ships to destroy just one alien ship. That's the truth they aren't telling you. And just seven days’ flight from here, there's an alien fleet of tens of thousands of starships ready to invade, and that's also the truth! There has never been such a real threat of total annihilation hanging over our race, and that is the pure, horrifying truth!
One could justly note that, as they say, if we destroy the warp beacons, the enemy starships would take years or even decades to arrive at our planets. Yes, that's true. But by doing that, we aren't changing our fate, but just drawing out the inevitable. Sooner or later, the enemy will still reach the Orange House Capital, the Nessi system, the Throne World and, ultimately, all star systems under human control. No, we need to fight now, delay our enemy's arrival while studying them and finding their weak points. The skeleton of a fleet is coming together right now. It uses new techniques and nonstandard battle tactics, specially developed to be used against alien ships. That fleet is being formed with the goal not of simply dying a hero's death in encounters with the aliens but of winning. I am the commander of that fleet! I need young, talented captains and officers with open-minded outlooks, who are able to learn new things and quickly take on the spirit of the victor. Ships will be found for them: cruisers and destroyers and frigates. Everything necessary to survival we will teach. Enemies for testing your abilities will also be found. Now it is up to you to decide if you are truly capable of becoming part of a newly forming force, or if you’d rather take a more relaxed position.”
* * *
"Don't react to them," I said, brushing it aside. "War is coming, and we hired crews for all our ships. That's what matters. We have no choice but to turn our backs on their grumbling."
The fleet was training intensively for the second day. The frigates were perfecting their group combat techniques. Five heavy cruisers were learning to spider tank and experimentally figuring out how long you could survive in such a cluster. I was preparing to interrogate the detained captain of the pirate ship and was a bit nervous.
The investigator who began the work with the detainee had already told me that they had discovered a brain block installed in the Brotherhood of the Stars captain; any attempt to give him drugs or truth serums, as well as any strong physical pain, would cause the pirate captain to die before giving up the valuable information. The only way to get the information from him would be with his consent to work together.
So, we had to act carefully. I had especially insisted that the pirate captain be blindfolded during my landing on the yacht. There was absolutely no reason to demonstrate my fleet's composition to an enemy that was still near the station. I was trying to play off that actually, hoping they'd still think we had a weak fleet.
"My Prince, he is ready for interrogation," said Popori de Cacha, letting me into the prison cell on the yacht where he had been placed two days earlier.
The middle-aged pirate captain, Velesh ton Rayf, was sitting on a chair with his arms bound behind his back. His legs were left free, clearly the chameleons didn't consider this prisoner too dangerous.
Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1) Page 19
