Imperium Chronicles Box Set

by W. H. Mitchell

  “Indeed,” the Abbot replied.

  The Abbot, along with his companion, turned without another word and headed inside.

  Still suspicious that her hair looked like she had been electrocuted, Jessica Doric was annoyed at Lord Maycare for being so thoughtless. On the other hand, he used the introduction she had suggested so that was something, not that any of it mattered apparently to the Abbot. He reminded her of the Dean at the University of Regalis: stuffy and resolute and dead set against change of any meaningful sort.

  Doric, along with the others, climbed the stairs and followed the Abbot through the main gate. The interior of the monastery was almost entirely granite, as if it were carved from the mountain itself. Doric noticed the tapestries, each a work of art, hanging from the walls of the main entrance hall. She had studied Dahlvish culture and recognized some of the scenes woven into the fabrics. The Dahl were long-lived, and many of their most celebrated scholars and statesmen amassed accomplishments over many centuries. As an academic herself, Doric personally found them intimidating, knowing their breadth of knowledge.

  The Abbot continued walking through the monastery, never looking back at those following. Doric began wondering where all the other monks were. She took peeks at adjoining corridors as they passed, but each hallway seemed deserted. She had hoped to see a demonstration of the psionics she knew they studied here.

  Finally, they emerged into a courtyard open to the sky. A jarring gust of mountain air blew into their faces. Doric shivered and regretted not dressing in something warmer.

  Refreshing, she thought sardonically.

  A circular pool of water, bordered by cut stones, was at the center of the courtyard. At first glance, Doric thought the pool was filled with regular water, but on further examination, she noticed it glimmered, not from the reflected sky or artificial lighting, but from some sort of inner radiance in the liquid itself.

  “Are we going swimming?” Henry asked hopefully.

  The Abbot leaned toward his assistant. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing...” Doric said, pushing Henry behind her.

  “Very well,” the Abbot nodded. “What you see before you is one of the greatest achievements of the Dahl people. You also have the privilege of being one of the few non-Dahl to ever see it.”

  “What is it?” Doric asked.

  “The Pool of Memory,” the Abbot replied.

  Seeing the blank look on the other faces, Counselor Kalidas stepped between them and the Abbot.

  “It’s a liquid computer,” Kalidas said. “A database, if you will.”

  “Well, I suppose so,” the Abbot remarked. “A gross over-simplification, I dare say.”

  “A database?” Maycare said. “Containing what exactly?”

  “Everything,” Kalidas said. “The sum total of our experiences and knowledge.”

  “Gross,” Henry whispered into Doric’s ear. “I’m glad I didn’t swim in it.”

  Doric ignored him. “How does it work?”

  “Using psionics,” the Abbot explained, “we can store our memories in the Pool. These experiences are then contained by nanoparticles suspended in the liquid.”

  Doric could tell Lord Maycare was skeptical. His face was scrunched like a tight fist.

  “Okay,” Maycare said. “How can it help us?”

  The Abbot took another step toward the edge of the pool.

  “Through the Naiad!” the Abbot said, waving a hand over the water.

  The pool blossomed with a radiant, aquamarine glow. Slowly, a head rose from the water, then a pair of shoulders, and finally the rest of a female figure, her feet still submerged. While shaped like a person, the form was made from the same translucent material as the pool.

  “A water nymph?” Doric asked.

  “There’s no direct translation,” the Abbot said, “but you might see her as such.”

  “She acts as an interface for the database,” Kalidas said, earning another glaring look from the Abbot.

  “So, we can ask her questions?” Maycare asked.

  The Abbot sighed. “Yes.”

  “Now we’re talking!” Maycare said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cornelius, Prince Richard’s execubot, listened to Lord Tagus III talk with the prince in his palace office. The robot could tell Tagus was angry because the decibel level of his voice was far above normal. Cornelius found this puzzling since people did not typically yell at his master. Even Prince Alexander would feign respect when speaking to his brother.

  An execubot’s programming was specific about remaining civil and behaving in a rational way at all times. Lord Tagus III was red in the face and his spittle sporadically sprayed from his mouth, falling in droplets on Richard’s desk. Cornelius regretted that more people did not have his programming.

  “Durant Blixx is a menace!” Tagus yelled, “And now he’s kidnapped the emperor’s own daughter!”

  “I’m aware of the situation,” Prince Richard replied, sitting calmly behind his desk. “The emperor will respond at the appropriate time.”

  “With Princess Katherine as a hostage,” Tagus said hotly, “time is the last thing we have!”

  “We can’t just go off half-cocked without any idea where Blixx may’ve taken her.”

  “Have you talked to your brother? I find it suspicious that Katherine was taken and not the prince.”

  “What are you implying?” Richard asked.

  “If Alexander wasn’t kidnapped, it’s probably because he hid like a coward or he was in on it the whole time!”

  “Have a care, Rupert...”

  Cornelius watched Tagus pause, as if calculating his next move.

  “What does the emperor have planned?” he said finally between gritted teeth.

  Richard sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

  “I have a meeting shortly with my father,” he said. “If his plans include the military, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “My ship can leave at a moment’s notice,” Tagus said. “Just let me know.”

  Prince Richard stood and presented his hand to Lord Tagus. With reluctance, Tagus took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake.

  “I will,” the prince replied.

  In his private study, Emperor Augustus drank wine near the fireplace with the imposing figure of Bar-Batos, the Magna Ambassador. The two were alone.

  “Talion wine, isn’t it?” the ambassador asked.

  “Yes indeed,” the emperor replied.

  “They served the Magna well during our last war with the Imperium. They were fine allies.”

  “Oh, I know,” Augustus said. “That’s why we launched reprisal raids against them after we signed the armistice with you. That’s how I liberated this wine, in fact. I’ve got a whole case of it down in the cellar.”

  The ambassador, the wine glass minuscule in his enormous hands, finished the drink in one final gulp. His blood red eyes reflected the flames in the fireplace.

  “No good deed goes unpunished,” he said.

  “Indeed,” Augustus replied. “We made sure of that.”

  “Still, mercy is often considered a human virtue as I recall.”

  “True, but those humans don’t have to be emperor.”

  Someone knocked on the study door.

  “Come in,” the emperor said.

  The door opened and Prince Richard stuck his head into the room. Seeing the massive green hulk of the Magna beside his father, the prince’s face turned white.

  “It’s alright, my boy,” Augustus assured him. “The ambassador was just leaving anyway.”

  “Thank you for the wine,” Bar-Batos told the emperor. “Remind me and I’ll send you some Irish whiskey we confiscated from one of your illegal border outposts.”

  “Always a pleasure,” the emperor said, taking the glass from the ambassador and setting both goblets on the mantelpiece.

  Prince Richard stood just insid
e the doorway as the Magna passed. The prince softly closed the door behind him.

  “You keep strange company,” Richard said.

  “Perhaps,” his father replied, “but enemies can often make the best of friends when the need arises.”

  Richard took a seat in one of the chairs while Augustus sat on his couch.

  “Rupert paid me a visit,” the prince said. “I can’t imagine him and I becoming friends any time soon.”

  “It’s a matter of respect, of course, but I doubt Rupert has much respect for anyone.”

  “He sees us as weak.”

  The emperor laughed. “Does he now?”

  “This whole Blixx affair makes us look feeble. We can’t let it continue much longer.”

  “No one said we were.”

  “Well, the military is getting restless,” Richard said. “Tagus is captain of the largest vessel in the Navy. He’s got a lot of pull with the other officers.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” the emperor said.

  “No? He wants to take the Gorgon out looking for Blixx. If he finds him, the people will carry Tagus through the Victory Arch when he gets back. Don’t you worry about how that might embarrass our family?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Why not, for heaven’s sake?”

  Richard’s father glanced at his son and smiled knowingly.

  “None of that matters, my boy,” Augustus said. “Keeping up appearances might seem important to some, but when you sit on the emperor’s throne, there’s a great deal more going on that’s never reported on VOX News.”

  Richard sighed.

  “Cheer up!” Augustus said. “This pirate business will soon be over.”

  “I hope you’re right, father. Tagus had the audacity to accuse Alexander of kidnapping Kate.”

  The emperor chuckled. “Alexander in cahoots with Durant Blixx?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I hadn’t considered that, I suppose.”

  “At the very least,” Richard said, “we need to limit Alexander’s visibility. I thought sending him to Mother’s would be enough, but obviously that wasn’t the case.”

  Augustus remained silent for a little while.

  “You know,” he said after the pause, “I have a vassal with an estate on a little planet off the beaten path. A bit of a recluse, but he owes me a favor...”

  “What do you have in mind?” Richard asked.

  The emperor grinned.

  The hospital room was painted white except for blue tiles around the windowsill where Prince Alexander rested his elbows, looking at the Revenna sky. Sighing, he turned toward the bed, which was the only furniture in the room except for a single chair in the corner. Lefty Lucy lay unconscious, tubes running from her arms and wires attached to her temples. Alexander held the bed rail as he stared down at his bodyguard, wondering when or if she would wake again.

  “You’re supposed to keep me out of trouble, not get yourself hurt,” he said. “What were you thinking?”

  A hovering nursebot glided into the room. Egg-shaped, the robot had no legs or head, but made up for it with a multitude of moving arms, each holding a medical instrument or syringe. Alexander thought it looked like a floating octopus.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Good morning!” the robot replied, its voice emanating from somewhere inside the egg.

  “Are you here to inject more nanos?” Alexander asked.

  “Unnecessary, Your Highness. The ones already in her system are working to heal her injuries.”

  “Then why isn’t she awake yet?”

  The nursebot whirled around a few rotations.

  “Unknown,” it said. “I’m not programmed to make a prognosis.”

  “Who is?”

  “The doctor will arrive soon,” the robot replied, “although if you ask me, her bedside manner is inferior to mine.”

  The nursebot took a few readings from the sensors attached to Lucy’s head and drifted toward the door, stopping just long enough to turn on the TV monitor. The face of Sylvia Flax appeared.

  “In sporting news,” she said, “Lord Devlin Maycare tied for first in the prestigious Regalis Grand Prix tube race. Amazingly, he finished by crashing onto the roof of his opponent. When asked to comment, Lord Maycare said ‘I do some of my best work on top.’”

  Alexander switched off the monitor as Flax rolled her eyes before disappearing.

  “I really screwed up this time,” he said, watching Lucy sleep.

  The prince bent over, stretching his hand to touch her face. Like lightning, Lucy grabbed Alexander’s wrist, clutching it tightly. He tried pulling away, but couldn’t.

  Lucy’s eyes opened.

  The Montros estate on the southern continent had always been Isabella’s favorite on Revenna. Built in the Romanesque style of ancient Earth, the main house was made from limestone blocks with thick mortar between the masonry. Growing up, she would walk the grounds in the warm Revenna summers, imagining the handsome prince she would someday marry. Now, those dreams were hazy and largely forgotten.

  In a courtyard, Isabella sat on a bench beside a marble well with an iron trellis. Behind her, a heavy door set in an ivy-covered wall creaked open and Prince Alexander stepped into the sun.

  “Mother,” he said, sitting beside her. “Any word on Kate?”

  “Your father assures me they’ll find her, but he might be humoring me.”

  “I can’t believe Sophia would do this,” Alexander said.

  “She was always an ambitious girl,” Isabella replied.

  Alexander became quiet, staring at the well.

  “I brought her here once,” he said after a long pause.

  “Sophia?”

  “Yes,” Alexander replied. “We threw coins in and made wishes. I asked what she wished for, but she said she couldn’t tell me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Isabella said. “Your father will find her and Kate, and justice will be served.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “What about your lady friend, Miss Lucy?”

  “You mean my bodyguard?” the prince corrected her. “She’s awake now.”

  “Talking up a storm, I imagine.”

  “Very funny.”

  “And what about Captain Harrison?”

  “He’ll recover, but I doubt he’ll be able to command again.”

  “That’s terrible,” Isabella said. “I hope—”

  Before the empress could finish, the air began to crackle.

  Both Isabella and her son stood while a column of glimmering air coalesced into the solid shape of Prince Richard.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Isabella said.

  “Not really, Mother,” Richard replied curtly. “Not when Alexander is involved.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Alexander asked.

  “It means you’re nothing but trouble,” his brother said.

  Her hand planted firmly on her hip, Isabella lowered her gaze directly at Richard. “I hope you didn’t come all this way to argue with Alexander.”

  “Actually, I’ve come with news from the emperor.”

  “Finally!” she said.

  “He’s decided to make an example of Alexander,” Richard replied.

  Alexander raised his eyebrow. “What the hell for?”

  “Nothing,” Richard said, “and that’s the problem. You watched Kate being taken and did nothing to stop it.”

  Empress Isabella remained calm and when she spoke, her voice was low and measured. “So, you’re making Alexander the scapegoat?”

  Richard turned to her. “Better him than the emperor. Even the military has started questioning whether Father is strong enough to deal with this crisis.”

  “What’s going to happen to Alexander?”

  “He’s to leave immediately for the planet Prill,” Richard said.

  “What am I supposed to do there?” Alexander said.

  “Stay out of trouble mostly,” his bro
ther replied. “Father has a vassal there who’ll babysit you until he decides otherwise.”

  “I’ll be damned if I’m going anywhere!” Alexander insisted.

  “You don’t have a choice,” Richard said.

  The air became heavy with the smell of burnt ozone and Isabella felt electricity crawling up the hairs on her arm. Her head turned just as Alexander started dissolving into shimmering light.

  “You son of a—” the prince began, but was gone before he could finish.

  Richard nodded at the empty air with satisfaction.

  “Well, that’s no way to talk about you, Mother,” he smirked.

  Isabella sighed heavily. “Was that really necessary?”

  “I knew he wouldn’t go voluntarily.” Richard said.

  “I meant sending him off to god-knows-where.”

  “Father thought so, and I agree. If the emperor deals this harshly with his own son, any questions about weakness will evaporate.”

  “I’ll speak to Hector myself!”

  “It won’t do you any good,” Richard said. “Father knows better than anyone that Alexander has been an embarrassment to the family. He was the one who suggested sending Alexander to Prill in the first place.”

  Isabella considered for a moment. “I’ve never heard of that planet.”

  “Well, that’s not surprising, Mother. It’s just an obscure dot on the star charts.”

  “Who’s this vassal you mentioned?”

  “His name is Lord Tycho,” Richard said. “He has a manor there and not much else. Anyway, you can stop worrying about poor Alexander. I doubt even he can get into trouble where he’s going.”

  Lieutenant Burke, attaché to Lord Tagus III, was dreaming about a woman, a woman beating him mercilessly. He was lying on his back with his arms up, protecting his face, while she, straddling him, punched his belly with both fists. He kept his eyes lightly shut, not daring to look at her. Suddenly, she stopped. Burke relaxed his arms only to feel her breath close to his face. He felt her lips pressing against his and they began kissing. The lieutenant opened his eyes and saw it was Lefty Lucy.

  With a start, Burke woke in his bunk, his body wrapped like a mummy in the sheets. He took a moment to remember where he was, in his officer’s stateroom on the Gorgon.