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Fortunes of the Imperium - eARC

Page 7

by Jody Lynn Nye


  “Thomas, dear,” Jil said, low in my ear. “I need to speak with you.”

  “You have my entire attention, cousin,” I said, theatrically clutching my abused neck. “But all you had to do is beckon to me. My throat may never be the same.” I signed for the server to bring drinks. Then I remarked upon the unfamiliar apprehension in her eyes. Teasing her, which she surely deserved, could wait. “How may I help?”

  “Thomas, I . . . I hate to ask.”

  “Then don’t frame it in the form of a question,” I said. “Tell me a story.”

  She pushed me. I staggered melodramatically backwards. The little pantomime broke the tension.

  “Thomas! I need to leave Keinolt for a little while.”

  “Do you need to leave tonight?” I asked, in all seeming innocence. “Then it was very kind of you to come to my party at all.”

  Her eyes went wide with dismay.

  “No! I mean, I need to go away somewhere far.”

  I frowned. “How far?”

  “Well . . . as far as the Autocracy sounds rather good at the moment.”

  “What a coincidence!” I said, all jolliness. “My mother is sending me on a diplomatic visit tomorrow morning. Do you want to come along?”

  She gripped my forearm with both of her hands. Her painted fingernails, half as long as the digits to which they were attached, dug into my skin through the fabric of my sleeve. I did my best not to wince.

  “May I? It would save my life.”

  “Of course, cousin. I think it would be great fun to travel with you. It has been a long time since we went on a long trip together.”

  I was able to sound sincere because I was. Jil was good company. She exhaled, as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

  “Thank you, Thomas. I am very grateful.”

  “We depart from Oromgeld Spaceport at 0900,” I said. “I know it’s an awful hour. I shall have to have all the valetbots haul me out of bed and dress me. Can you be there on time?”

  “Oh, yes,” Jil said, then hesitated. “But it isn’t just me.”

  “Oh?” I inquired. Parsons had not mentioned a companion. “Would you like to bring someone with you?”

  “Yes, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “I am sure that it isn’t. Who is it?”

  Jil beckoned. The gaggle approached.

  “Which one of them?” I asked.

  “Thomas!” Jil said, with an expansive gesture. “I want you to meet my companions! They are all wonderful people, and I know you will come to love them as much as I do.”

  “All of them?” I asked, in disbelief, peering from one elegantly clad lovely to another.

  “Of course, all of them! Banitra Savarola Wilcox, Hopeli Asmudov, Marquessa Royode, Sinim Nikhorunkorn Torm, this is my cousin, Lord Thomas Innes etcetera etcetera Kinago. I am sure he will tell you to call him Thomas. Thomas, these are my very dear friends. We are all looking forward to traveling with you.”

  I bowed, giving the most elegant of gestures with my right arm, while my mind went through deeply complicated contortions to accept what I had heard.

  “Ladies, it is my deep pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope that we will all become good friends. Jil is correct. Please do call me Thomas.”

  They giggled.

  I described her companions collectively as a gaggle, though once they separated into disparate examples of humanity I found elements of interest in each one of them. Two of them, Banitra and Sinim, were minor members of the nobility, though they were untitled, but meaning that they were very distantly related to Jil and to me. Banitra was attractive, with warm, tawny skin, very dark eyes, and with the molded brow that distinguished all Wilcoxes, including the current minister for industrial development. Like him, I perceived that she took in her surroundings with those bright eyes, filing away interesting facts for later. By her surnames Sinim shared several ancestors with Jil, though her skin was more bronze than gold, and her cheekbones more prominent. She was shorter of stature, and draped her curvaceous frame in swathes of turquoise crepe silk. Her long, black hair was gathered in a complicated plait.

  The other two were commoners. One could distinguish that condition by their very faces, which were asymmetrical to a dismaying degree. Since I was surrounded nearly all the time by my close family, all of whom were of Imperial blood, on beholding ordinary human beings, I sometimes found myself trying to urge their features into a more harmonious line by furtive movements of my shoulders or body, as one seeks to influence the arc of a ball one has already thrown. The action did no good in either case. Marquessa had dimples, a pointed chin, and thick blonde hair that waved upon the shoulders of a gown of excellent design and expensive cream-colored fabric. Teak-skinned Hopeli had a frame so slight I feared she would fly away, but she moved with admirable grace. All four ladies were charming and attractive, and seemed to be interesting conversationalists, as subject gave way to subject without hindrance or hesitation.

  My viewpad buzzed on my hip. I did not need to look at its screen to know what it said.

  “It is time for the toasts,” I said, offering Jil my arm. “Come along with me, ladies. This is the sole official event tonight.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Precisely on schedule, serverbots were constructing a small dais in the center of the garden, immediately between the (unused) throne and the ornamental fountains. A trio of narrow pylons had been erected and draped with bunting that twinkled with tiny lights sewn throughout the fabric. I stepped into the center of the round stage, where my voice would be picked up and carried by the speakers concealed in the pylons and at numerous points around the massive garden. Another server, human this time, appeared at my elbow with a tray containing tall flutes of sparkling wine. I served them to my cousin and her entourage, then secured one for myself.

  “If I may have your attention, my friends,” I announced. I held up my glass, and waited for silence. The hubbub gradually died down. I looked out over the sea of faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, some rather the worse for drink, even though midnight had not yet struck. “Thank you all for coming to my party. It is such a pleasure to see you all enjoying yourselves.”

  “Great food!” shouted the Wichu ambassador, waving a plate in the air.

  “I quite agree,” I said. “I have no idea how I’m going to fit into my pressure suit—there’s no time to have it altered. For those of you who don’t know the reason for the celebration, such as if you did not receive an invitation directly . . .” I peered out at the crowd, pretending to be gruff, and received the expected laugh. “. . . tomorrow I proceed from here to the Uctu Autocracy! It is my first time making the long crossing. I shall be accompanied by a highly competent and efficient crew,” here I gestured toward my friends, who had pitched up close to my dais in the company of my mother, “on an official visit on behalf of his imperial majesty, the emperor, Shojan XII. To the emperor!” I held up my glass.

  “To the emperor!” chorused my guests and all the servers. I threw out my free hand in Jil’s direction. She held up her hands to stop me, but the spate of my eloquence could not be stemmed.

  “My dear cousin, the Lady Jil Loche Nikhorunkorn, is coming along with me, to make certain that no store or goods emporium within the borders of the Uctu Autocracy will remain unshopped!”

  Loud cheers erupted, along with some fleering comments from our closest relatives, who knew Jil’s propensity for clearing shelves. In spite of her worries, Jil made a face at me.

  “Why you?” cousin Erita shouted from beside the drinks pavilion. “The emperor has plenty of other relatives, not to mention diplomats with actual experience. I mean, what do you plan to do, tell the Autocrat jokes? Do you want to undo all the ties that have been formed between us in the last thirty years?”

  I held an innocent hand to my chest.

  “I am the very person to bring Imperium humor to the Autocracy, cousin,” I protested. “Even as we speak, my computer system has been gathering
, sorting and analyzing humorous stories guaranteed to bring laughter bubbling to the lips, er, mandibles of our dear neighbor. I will have routines ready for every occasion! No event will find me unprepared.”

  My mother came to my rescue. She stepped out of the protective circle of my crew and held up her hands for silence.

  “Thomas is going on this mission because he is my son, and I plan to get what use I can out of him. Since he is still seconded to the navy, I can order him to make a diplomatic visit to the Autocrat. The rest of you,” she sent a mock-baleful eye around to my relatives close enough to receive the glare, “have retreated out of my reach.”

  Howls of laughter rose. I even received some looks of sympathy.

  “It is true,” I said, assuming my most chastened expression. “My brother and sister successfully made it out of the navy. Mother simply did not get her hands on them in time.” I looked suitably sheepish and put upon, which caused another laugh to go up. I signaled to the servants to bring more champagne and sweets to the guests. When they were so furnished, I raised my glass again.

  “A toast to my lady mother! To the First Space Lord, the most honored Admiral Lady Tariana Kinago Loche!”

  We drank the toast. My mother abstained, since it is discourteous to drink to oneself. Instead, she looked quietly dignified. I adored her. She always knew the right thing to do.

  “Now, if I may have everyone join hands in a circle, or several circles,” I said, stepping down from my stage. The servers moved in to collect the empty glasses. I took Mother’s left hand and reached for Plet’s right. She shied away from me like a startled horse.

  My crew looked rather nervous, but two of Jil’s ladies, Banitra and Sinim, took pity on them and herded the entire group between them, forming our own small ring encircling the dais. I realized that though the ladies were accompanying me with an entirely unwelcome task in mind, they seemed to be kind and inclusive. They would not be so great a burden as some of my cousin’s friends.

  “Let us concentrate our mental strength so that our trip to the Autocracy will be a grand success! May the universe lower all barriers to friendship between our two peoples, and make the bonds between us stronger than ever before.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on channeling the energy I knew must be building around me to bend fortune to my will. I heard some giggling and moaning from the assembled, casting aspersions on my efforts, so I added, “And when we return, may our hands be filled with gifts to share among you!”

  A loud cheer went up for that latter wish. I knew I would have no trouble making them concentrate upon gain. I felt an inward rush of positive energy, which I directed toward the power of good by lifting my hands heavenward. If that didn’t add luck to our enterprise, I would be greatly surprised.

  Dance music began afresh, and the circles broke hastily. The servers moved in hastily to offer fresh drinks to the guests, who retreated into smaller groups to discuss my small ceremony. I would ask my staff later to let me know what they had overheard. I was always curious what people thought, but they did not always share their honest opinions. But my family tended to talk without reservation in front of the servants.

  My cousin Xan came over to slap me hard on the back. He was a man of my own height and age but far handsomer and possessed of thick, dark curly hair and a sculpted and muscular torso that sent a primal thrill through many women’s brains. Xan had two young lovelies with him, one hanging on to each arm. He detached them carefully and leaned close to have a private word with me.

  “Be careful,” he whispered. “I heard Great-Aunt Sforzina say that two of Jil’s girls are prospects for you.”

  My eyes narrowed at the warning.

  “Of the nuptial variety?”

  “In what else is Aunt Sforzina interested?” Xan countered. “She cannot seem to see any of us without picturing our future offspring. The last time I went to have tea with her and Uncle Perleas, she told me I should have six children, four boys and two girls, and she knew just the wife who would manage me properly.”

  The serenity I had been cultivating all the way through a rather successful party retreated, leaving me feeling like a chastened schoolboy.

  “Confound it!” I declared. “I have to fly all the way to the Uctu Autocracy with a quartet of girls who are angling to become my bride? That is going to put an immense strain on my, er, shopping trip!”

  “Just don’t buy any of them a ring,” Xan said, with a cackle. He winked one sapphire-blue eye. “But I fancy two of them only are prospects. The others are commoners. Even Aunt Sforzina, in her zeal to put you on the wedding path, would not tie you to anyone who is not of noble blood.”

  “Very true,” I said, buoyed partway up again. “That halves the threat, but still leaves me with two problems I did not need. Thank you for the klaxon, cousin. I am in your debt. Curse all meddling aunts!”

  “You owe me a bottle of Uctu brandy. They grow a very odd variety of grape that makes the most marvelous fortified wine in the galaxy. I have had only one stingy taste from my uncle Radyion, who guards his cache fiercely. That will expiate the debt. Two bottles will put me in yours.”

  “Gladly,” I said. I added Uctu brandy to the growing list of requests from various cousins. My little scout ship was going to have its own gravity well by the time we returned.

  Jil came rushing to me, followed by her ladies. The women all seemed to be having a wonderful time, but Jil wore a look of terror.

  “He’s there,” she said, pointing frantically toward the gate. “How did he get in?”

  “Who? The man who threatened you?”

  “How do you know about that?” she asked, astonished.

  “I heard about your encounter. Is it he?”

  “Yes. He looks like he could murder me!”

  I took her hand and marched in the direction she indicated. Parsons, whom I had not seen before during the evening, shimmered into existence at my side and walked with us. I turned to him.

  “My cousin, Parsons, has had a fright.”

  “I know, my lord.” He turned to her. “You are safe, Lady Jil. Please remain with me.”

  “Oh, Parsons!” she wailed, grabbing his arm. He stood stalwart as she melted onto his shoulder and wept.

  I summoned my door wardens, faithful retainers who had served the emperor’s family all their lives and were experts in keeping the compound secure. With a mere flick of his forefinger, Parsons sent a full description of the alleged perpetrator to their viewpads.

  “Have you seen this man at all tonight?” I asked. “The Lady Jil said that she just saw him.”

  “Here?” asked one guard, disbelievingly.

  “Just here, just a moment ago.”

  “No, my lord!” the chief guard exclaimed, her square face full of concern. “We’ve been monitoring security all night long. No one came in without your invoices, or accompanied by an invited guest. We ran every single person through Infogrid, sir. This man hasn’t been here. How would he get into the compound anyhow?”

  “Run a security audit immediately,” Parsons said. “This person has access to technical capabilities that may compromise the systems.”

  “On it, sir,” said the sub-chief. He hurried back to the console in the gatehouse. The rest of the doorwardens scattered to their various stations. The sub-chief returned in a moment with an oversized viewpad in his hands.

  “No, sir, no man of that description has entered here tonight.”

  Parsons and I exchanged concerned expressions.

  “Then what did she see?”

  “I couldn’t say, my lord, my lady,” the sub-chief said, though Jil kept her face buried in Parsons’s immaculate collar.

  Suddenly, an explosion of sound erupted at the far end of the party lawn. I turned to run in the direction of the noise. Parsons clasped my shoulder firmly.

  “No, sir,” he said. “It will be handled.”

  I subsided. Parsons detached my cousin and urged her into my arms. Her la
dies surrounded her like a pastel-colored wall, their backs to her in a protective shield. Parsons glided away into the heart of the crowd. We waited.

  Security guards, some human, some LAIs, appeared on the scene. I spotted my mother in the midst of a cluster of concerned guests. I could tell she was doing her best to reassure them. An officer in door warden uniform approached my mother. She listened closely to him, then nodded. A word from her sent my crew running in the direction of the disturbance. Even in their glad rags, they did their duty to defend the emperor’s domicile.

  I heard the distant sound of a flitter taking off, but it was so far away I doubted that the occupant could have been where Jil said she saw him. Unless he had some kind of other small vehicle or propellant pack, and we would have heard that in the aftermath of the alarm. It would also have set off a host of proximity sirens and security responses. I wondered why they had not sounded when the charge was set. The system in the compound could detect traces of thousands of volatile compounds. A couple of these very door wardens had confiscated a couple of my essential oils only a week ago until they could be analyzed and found harmless.

  Plet appeared at my mother’s side and threw a crashing salute. She spoke in a low tone close to Mother’s ear. The maternal unit nodded sharply and gestured toward me. Plet marched in my direction.

  “No sign of an intruder, sir,” she reported. “A small parcel was caught on a security eye falling from a height and detonated by remote lasers. Anstruther is analyzing the video to see if we can detect what vehicle it came from.”

  “There shouldn’t be anything flying over the compound but one of ours or a licensed delivery vehicle,” I pointed out.

  “I know, sir,” Plet said. “Security is investigating.”

  “Thank you, lieutenant,” I said. She saluted with an efficiency of movement, and returned to my mother’s side. I patted Jil on the shoulder.

  “Never fear, cousin. Tomorrow we depart. No threat can harm you.”

 

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