“Perhaps in your Imperium.” He said the word as though it was a curse. “But here the Autocrat is the ultimate authority. We advise. She decides.”
“May I put my concerns to you, so that you may advise her? You are accustomed to setting topics in a fashion that she will comprehend most easily.”
Rimbalius almost quivered with fury. His nostrils flared in and out.
“Are you insulting the Autocrat?”
“Never, sir,” I said. “I have read her Infogrid file. I know that she is but seventeen summers old. If you had set me on the throne when I was seventeen, by my eighteenth birthday everyone in the Imperium would have been speaking Kail. I have no doubt that she is intelligent and is working as hard as she can to take on the mantle of a ruler.”
“You may take your patronizing attitude and . . .” I strained to understand the phrase that followed, but considering his expression, the harsh sound of the words and the hand gesture, the context was inescapable.
Well, abject admiration and humility weren’t working to break down the barriers. Where diplomacy failed, flippancy and daring sometimes succeeded.
“It is clear that you don’t like me, Lord Rimbalius,” I said. “I can’t say I blame you. Naturally, you hold my parentage against me. You don’t know me, but you faced off against my mother. She is a formidable enemy, but a truly wonderful friend. I hope one day you will come to know her. You must respect her, or you would not continue to fear that memory.”
“Now you accuse me of cowardice!”
“Far from it,” I said.
On impulse, I drew my sword. Instantly, a pulse pistol was in his hand. I tossed the blade into the air so that it came down blunt side against my forearms. I offered it to him, hilt first.
“What is this?” Rimbalius demanded.
“This is my sword, a yard of steel with a basket handle. It’s been repaired recently, after a rather unfortunate encounter with a Solinian. It’s a family heirloom, though it descends to me through the paternal line instead of the maternal. Mother still carries her own sword, of course. But I offer you my own weapon to run me through, if you think it will help the cause of peace between our two nations.”
He looked tempted for a moment, then he threw the blade away from him. It clattered over the desktop and skidded across the hard floor to the wall. It would not break the steel, which had seen worse use, but I would undoubtedly have to sharpen the blade again. Rimbalius stood up and loomed over me, his hands on the desk. His knuckles flexed like bodybuilders.
“No! You are trying to trick me into starting another war.”
“I am not, I assure you. I merely put myself at the greatest disadvantage, to tell you how very seriously the Imperium takes the questions they have sent me to put to you.”
Rimbalius’s eyes narrowed.
“Ask them. I do not promise to answer.”
“Very well, then,” I said. “The first concerns the merchants who are currently being held in your lockup facility on the outskirts of this city. As far as I can discern from their pleas to me and the statements of their counsel, law enforcement has not taken seriously their assertions that they are innocent of knowingly bringing contraband into the Autocracy. I am concerned that justice may not truly be done, and that they will bear the brunt of a system that, er, shoots first and asks questions later. The Imperium acknowledges that you must defend your borders, but you must also defend the rights of travelers to proceed unmolested unless proven guilty. These people have been locked up without even knowledge of where they are, let alone being free to assist in their own defense.”
I was quite taken aback at the words coming out of my mouth. I had never known myself to be so eloquent. Perhaps Parsons was rubbing off on me.
Rimbalius listened, but the expression on his face did not change.
“We have no choice but to react strongly to the appearance of dangerous objects.” He pounded the top of his desk with a broad fingertip. “The Imperium winks at these smugglers.”
“Not at all,” I said. I rose to retrieve my sword from the floor. I offered it a silent apology and placed it back on the tabletop, still with the point facing me. “Criminals must be punished for offenses of which they are convicted by a fair trial. As a private citizen I am upset that the fate for such crimes in the Autocracy is always death. I may also say that the laws put off many more importers and visitors traveling to the Autocracy than you will ever know. Because rumors spread, as rumors will, travelers fear that they can be imprisoned and condemned to death through simple inadvertence. We thought that your system of justice was as ours, based upon the presumption of innocence, but the treatment of the prisoners suggests otherwise.”
Rimbalius’s jowls shook with fury.
“That is not true! Our trials are thorough examinations of fact, beginning at a point of neutrality. No one is arrested without due cause. We have evidence. The fighter craft could not have been brought here by accident. I find it difficult to believe that the family of humans in whose ship it was found had no inkling. We must be more careful, not less. Our court proceedings are scrupulous in their intent.”
“That may also be true. Publishing the transcripts of the trials in both Uctu and Imperium Standard on an Infogrid file might help facilitate the idea that the Autocracy is open to trade and will be fair to those who engage in it.”
The High Protector seemed openly taken aback by the notion.
“We do welcome trade. The exchange of goods and ideas is vital to the Autocracy. You cannot say that we have not been good customers for the Imperium.”
“It behooves you to battle the perception that it isn’t, though. You can’t help but notice that over the last several years, imports from the Imperium have tailed off to an historic low.”
“Yes, I have noticed that.”
“With that in mind, my imperial cousin is very troubled that you are limiting our imports still further. Soon they will fall below unsustainable levels.”
“I know! But we cannot allow goods to be brought in that undercut industries that are just beginning to grow. The prices, even with shipping and transfer costs, of certain rare earths and emerging technology, are less than we can afford to make these goods. Our exports must exceed or equal the value of our imports, or we become a subject nation.”
“That part is too deep for me,” I admitted. “But there is a more immediate concern. At the risk of adding fuel to a fire I can already see burning, the problem is exacerbated by the bottleneck at the frontier jump points where our ships are trapped for sometimes months on end awaiting permission to enter the Autocracy,” I said. “The matter is not yet well known across the Imperium, but news cannot help but trickle out, thanks to the Infogrid. The outrage will become greater. I would hate to see the relationship between our peoples suffer because of a custom we do not understand. Perhaps if you gave me an explanation of why so few ships are permitted into the Autocracy at any time, I could convey that home to my cousin, and he can assuage the critics. I am sure that there is a good reason that perhaps I will not understand, but I am not trained to deal in the greater secrets of government. You may even send it under seal, if you feel I cannot be trusted with the knowledge directly.”
He glanced at me. Even though he was not of my species, I recognized the desperate vacillation by one who wished he had someone in whom he could confide. Then he realized with whom he was speaking, and shut down again. I felt sorry for him.
I brought out the cube that Parsons had lent me, and activated it. Like all Uctu, Rimbalius had incredibly keen hearing, and sensed the change.
“We cannot now be overheard, High Protector. No listening device or other pair of ears can perceive what we are saying. If they don’t read lips, that is. It does not record. If you don’t believe me, then I offer it to you to destroy at the end of our discussion.”
His eyes widened.
“Are you a spy?”
“Not in the way you’d define one—I hope. I’m an emissary
. You may or may not believe it, but my main function here is to facilitate cooperation between our two nations.”
“Very well. I will take you at your word. But fear me if you are lying!”
I tapped the sword on the desk.
“I would, but I am not.”
He nodded his head sharply once. His eyes fixed upon me as if he were trying to read my thoughts.
“All of the matters that you raise are at the pleasure of the Autocrat. She has absolute power to decree her will. So it has always been. The lower houses of government can only advise, but we serve at her pleasure. The death penalties were introduced during the time of war, as a means of protecting ourselves against the black market that sprang up. You don’t know what it was like, finding that you were considered vulnerable by everyone around you. And so many took advantage of us during that time that draconian laws were the only answer. The Autocrat was a changed male during the last years of his life, and would not listen to reason. When he died . . .”
He was a brave man, but even he quailed at stating the most uncomfortable of truths. I cleared my throat and pressed onward. My sword blade gleamed on the desk, as if reminding me how sharp was its point. I had a few sharp points to make myself, none less painful for not being made of steel. I offered him a grave smile, one I had cribbed from Parsons.
“I have heard, and you may chide me for speaking out of turn, I had heard that at the end of his life the late Autocrat was not in his right mind.” Rimbalius glared, but he did not contradict me. “I speak as one who knows what it is like to deal with one who has been altered. My father returned from a long-ago battle a grievously changed man, and he has never recovered his wits. It has been difficult. One still loves and respects him, but it would put one in an impossible position if one had to live by his rule. Luckily, my father is retired from the world. Visoltia’s father could not remove himself from office and hand rule down in order of succession, since his daughter was so very young at the time of his . . . indisposition. I expect he wanted to make a trusted ally like yourself her regent, but such things undermine the power of the throne, don’t they?”
Rimbalius almost looked grateful not to have had to say anything himself. When he finally spoke, his words were tentative, as though he had to force them from the deepest recesses of his heart.
“I agree that such laws calling for death for so many infractions are wrong and outdated, but Her Serenity is afraid to change anything that her father did, no matter under what circumstances they were initiated. She seems to have taken a fancy to you, in spite of your maternal line. You have broken down her reserves and made yourself her friend. She has few in whom she confides.
“It is only in the last few months she has ordered me to constrict the number of ships entering from outside. When I dared to inquire why, she told me of her fear of spies and invaders. If a strict control is kept upon the numbers, then they will never achieve great enough strength to attempt to overthrow her.”
“But you would never let that happen,” I said, alarmed.
“No! Of course not! She is well protected, and her people love her. There are defenses she will never know of that can be activated at a moment’s notice.”
“Then,” I paused to assemble my thoughts within this new language, “it is a whim of some kind? Based upon her fears?”
“It would seem so.” He peered at me again. “You seem to understand such caprices.”
“Whims are my stock in trade,” I said. “I represent an entire subculture that is almost entirely driven by spur-of-the-moment decisions. I assure you that at the time they begin they seem to make sense to us, but if they are allowed to persist, the initial logic gets lost. Why, I could tell you of fashion trends that were started almost entirely by mistake, and it took the outcry of thousands on the Infogrid to bring them to a halt.”
“These are not so simple as fashion,” Rimbalius said severely.
“Lord Protector, there is nothing simple about fashion,” I corrected him.
“Do not waste my time!”
I subsided at once, recalling that it had not been many minutes since he had hated me and my entire family line with an earthshaking passion. Our alliance was fragile to the point of shattering at a breath. I placed my hands together under my chin.
“I apologize, sir. I will help you in any way I may, toward our mutual benefit.”
The gesture seemed to mollify him. He nodded. “If you can move the Autocrat to dismiss these fears, then you will do us all a service. She is learning, but in the meantime people suffer from her inexperience. I expect her to make mistakes. Those who see that forget that her father was the same way, and her grandfather and great-grandmother before her at her age. All must learn, then the Autocracy will prosper. But if you can teach her to take greater chances now, it will be for the better of our nation. We are still rebuilding after the punishments the Imperium visited upon us.”
I blanched. I knew of the reparations that the Autocracy was forced to make, but I had no idea it had hurt them to pay.
“I’ll try. Truly, I will. Thank you for your time, High Protector. I will go now.” I held out my hand for my sword.
“No,” said Rimbalius, and I almost saw him smile. He closed his hand on the hilt. “I will hold onto this for a time. I may take you upon your offer.”
I bowed, warrior’s son to warrior. “So be it. May I count upon your help in swaying the Autocrat from the way things were to the way, perhaps, that they ought to be?”
Rimbalius’s eyes were wary but hopeful.
“You may.” I offered him the gray cube, but he waved it away. “You might need that again. I have work to do.”
“I will show myself out,” I said.
I returned to the handy cubicle to change clothing and freshen myself up. I caught a glimpse of my own face in the mirror under the hook as I swung my jacket down. No visible change there. I was glad. I did not want anyone to see the weight of the matters of state that I was now carrying within me. I folded my uniform away into the carryall and hoisted it by its strap onto my shoulder.
My viewpad vibrated, indicating a live call. I thumbed the screen, expecting Parsons. I was rather proud of myself for the way that I had handled the interview with the High Protector, and looked forward to the microscopic crumb of approval with which Parsons would greet my news. Instead, Sinim’s small face peered up at me from the viewpad. Her dark eyes were huge with worry.
“Oh, Thomas! Where are you?”
“I have just finished with my appointment,” I said. “I will be along shortly. I am going to stop briefly at the hotel. May I bring you anything from there?”
She stuttered over her words, but finally got them out.
“Thomas, you must come here quickly! Lady Jil is terrified!”
“Terrified of what?”
“A man! She is hiding in a shop and we cannot get her out. Please come at once.”
“I am on my way,” I said. A man? What man?
With the floor plan on my viewpad to guide me through the labyrinthine tunnels, I strode in the direction of the kitchens, where my vehicle awaited. I negotiated a difficult series of turns and jumped down a flight of three metal stairs. A door opened, and a robed figure emerged, directly into the path of my leap. I threw myself toward the right wall as if diving for a difficult lob in tri-tennis, but my boot still impacted with the newcomer’s tail.
“Ow!” bellowed the High Wisdom.
There is a nerve above the base of the tail of an Uctu that causes unbelievable pain when depressed. Normally it is protected by a five-way meld of scales, but Redius assured me that in the way of small children everywhere, every young Gecko swiftly learns how to cause his siblings or friends wholly avoidable, crippling agony. I knew from the contortions of his face that I had struck that nerve.“How clumsy of me!” I babbled, catching him under the arm as he started to sag toward the floor. “I am so terribly sorry, Lord Toliaus. I was not looking where you were going. May I obtain as
sistance for you?”
He struck me in the face with the back of his hand. I blinked. It hurt, but nowhere near what he was suffering.
“Don’t touch me! Oh! You assassin!”
“I am so very sorry,” I said. My face stung. “I did not mean to injure you. How may I help?”
“Go! Get away from me! Get out! Get out of my sight!”
I liked nothing more then to absent myself from the scene of my faux pas. I remained facing him as I backed down the hallway. At the very next intersection, I turned and basely ran toward the exit. I was sorry for having assailed the High Wisdom, but my deep and secret self had longed since our first meeting to kick him in the backside because of the haughty way in which he intimidated Visoltia.
I had not thought that karma would take a hand so rapidly.
CHAPTER 39
I felt it to be a good thing that the embassy had seen fit to program the air car in which I rode, because it would have taken me hours to locate the shop that Sinim had mentioned. The canopy was only a lightproof fabric thrown like a tablecloth over the framework of the vehicle, so I had an unobstructed view of the countless shops on the brilliantly sunlit streets by which I passed, and the passersby and shoppers had an unobstructed view of me. I waved and smiled as though I was in a parade, all the time worrying what kind of trouble my cousin had managed to find in a store thousands of light years from home. I was grateful that the call had not come while I was still in delicate negotiations with the High Protector. My guess was that she had tried on something appalling, couldn’t get it off again, and was too embarrassed to be seen in public. As to why she simply did not pay for it and cut it off at her leisure back at the hotel, I had no idea.
The console at the front of the car began to beep insistently. I prepared myself for landing and began to look around for the name of the shop in question.
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