Fortunes of the Imperium (44 page)

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Authors: Jody Lynn Nye

Tags: #Fiction, #science fiction, #General, #Action & Adventure, #Space Opera

BOOK: Fortunes of the Imperium
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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“I agree that such laws calling for death for so many infractions are wrong and outdated, but Her Serenity is afraid to change anything that her father did, no matter under what circumstances they were initiated.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 assistance 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.

The air car settled. I leaped out.

“Please wait for me here,” I instructed it.

“As you please.”

There was no need to parse the unfamiliar Uctu script on the various storefronts. The one I was looking for had to be that before which the Autocrat’s canopied vehicle waited. Visoltia was inside it, conversing with a couple of small children who were leaning over the sill. Her servants were pouring bright red juice for all of them. She spotted me over their heads and beckoned to me.

“Thomasin!” she cried.

“Are you all right, Your Excellence?” I asked.

“I am fine, but I believe your cousin is in some distress.”

“Where is she?” I asked.

Visoltia pointed toward the entrance.

“Still inside. She said she would not come out until you arrived.”

How very odd, I thought.

Sinim jumped out of a display of furniture as I entered the shop. She seized my arm and pulled me along a shining strip of tesserated floor to the left.

“This way! She is in the fabric department.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Shhh! Don’t speak so loudly. He might hear you.”

“He? Who is he?”

“It is so strange,” the young woman said. “We were looking at robes for the feast, going along the racks of clothing up on the second floor, when we bumped into a couple of humans who were also shopping. I thought he was going to strike Jil! Banitra stopped him. The woman pulled the man away, but Jil ran off. All of us went looking for her. Hopeli and I finally found her, but he is still here! I don’t know how we are going to get her out without him seeing her.”

“I will protect my cousin,” I vowed. “Take me to her.”

The blonde Hopeli browsed from stack to stack of colorful folds of cloth, all the time casting a wary eye upon the doorway. As soon as she saw me, she beckoned to me to join her.

“Where is she?” I whispered.

Hopeli slewed her eyes to the left. My gaze followed in their direction.

At the rear of the room was a dais, illuminated by a skylight in the ceiling. On it were mannequin forms swathed with shimmering cloth in brilliant patterns. One of them seemed unnaturally broad around the base. It quivered ever so slightly. I sidled through the department as though looking for just that excellent bargain that I could not do without, and stopped to examine the warm crimson fabric adorning the dummy just to the left.

“Jil?” I murmured.

She burst out of her cocoon and threw her arms around me.

“Thomas! Oh, Thomas, get me out of here!”

“Of course I will,” I promised. “But what happened?”

“It’s him!” she cried. “He is here!”

“Who?” I asked.

“Nile Bertu! The man I slapped on Sparrow Island!”

I felt as though I had been slapped, too. I drew back so I could see her face.

“He is on Memepocotel? Are you sure it was he?”

“Yes! I never expected to see him again in my life, and suddenly he bumped into me. I . . . well, he recognized me.”

“Naturally,” I said. “You make an indelible impression.”

“Oh, Thomas!” Jil said in exasperation. “Well, he demanded an apology. I was so startled to see him that I . . .” She hesitated, her face red with shame.

“Yes?” I urged her.

“I slapped him
again
.”

“Oh, Jil,” I said. “And you think I am the impulsive one.”

“That is because you are!”

I heard voices nearby, angry ones arguing.

“Shh!” I said. Jil grabbed my arm.

“He’s coming back! What will I do? He must not find me. Oh, help me!”

“Hold still,” I said, pulling her onto the dais and squaring her shoulders. “Be as motionless as a statue, as if your life depended on it.”

I took a bolt of fabric from a display to my right and propped it against her legs to approximate an Uctu tail. Then I stripped the swathe of red cloth off the mannequin and wound it around her, careful to envelop her head.

I backed away again, and began to browse the sewing notions along the shelves in the wall.

Footsteps erupted behind me and chattered over the tiled floor. I used my viewpad to spy behind me. I beheld two humans and a Croctoid charging into the room. I kept my back turned to the entrance to the department. The humans were speaking Imperium Standard, arguing at the top of their lungs.

“I
saw
her come in here,” the woman said.

“Where?” the man demanded. “There’s only one woman in here.”

They eyed Hopeli up and down.

“Miss, excuse me. Have you seen a pretty human lady in a green outfit? Long hair, a lot of jewelry?” the woman asked.

“No,” Hopeli said, her face innocent. She was an admirable liar.

They looked around the room, but found no other way out. Jil stood on her dais, though I knew she longed to flee.

The Bertus glanced my way, but as I was a man in uniform, not an attractive woman wearing a few wisps of green cloth, they kept looking. Their search proving fruitless, they hurried out of the chamber.

As soon as I was certain they were gone, I unwrapped Jil’s disguise. She fell into my arms, trembling. Hopeli patted her on the shoulder.

“Are you all right?” I asked. Jil brushed errant strands of hair out of her eyes.

“Yes! That was unexpectedly . . . quick-thinking of you.”

Wounded, I put a hand to my chest.

“How can you say that? Am I not the reigning king of Sardines at home? Who has
never
been found in over fifteen years of playing every year at the feast of the Imperial Union? Who always has the greatest number of fellow sardines at the end of every game? Do you not remember sitting down on the couch in the Blue Parlor? There were four of us concealed in it. I was disguised as the back cushion. You never twigged at all.”

“Oh, well, you needn’t rub it in,” Jil said crossly. The rest of her retinue came into the room. They surrounded Jil, reassuring themselves that she was all right. “But it was clever. I don’t feel like shopping any longer. Take me back to the hotel,” she said to the ladies. “Are you coming, too, Thomas?”

“No,” I said. “I want to give that wretch a piece of my mind. How dare he demand an apology from you, then pursue you like a cat after a mouse?”

“That is a very good idea, my lady,” Banitra said.

She and the others bracketed Jil like battlements about a castle keep, and hustled her outside to the Autocrat’s vehicle. I caught the attention of a passing clerk.

“Have you seen a pair of humans around here?” I asked. “A man and a woman, with a Croctoid?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” she said, pointing down a long corridor toward a glass door bursting with sunlight. “They asked me how to get a hire car to take them back to their hotel.”

I strode as swiftly as I could and pushed my way out of the door. I was just in time to see a hovercar lift off and pass out from under the canvas awning and into the brilliant sunshine of the street. I made a note of the number and ran back to my conveyance. The Autocrat’s car was gone.

“Are you in touch with a central computer?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” the vehicle said.

“I must find hire car number 871. Can you find where it is going and follow it? Please, it is a matter of importance.”

“Yes, sir. It shall be done.”

I hopped into the passenger compartment, and the car lifted off.

My curiosity radiated in waves like the heat bubbling off the pavement. Why would any man, in a fit of whatever desire, ever wish to come as far as this to demand an apology of my cousin? I would not cross the street if Jil had offended me, but I had been brought up with her, and we had quarreled more times than we had had hot dinners. Perhaps to a stranger the offense would rankle deeply enough to go to such lengths—but I recalled that this man was not a stranger, he was an Imperium citizen, and as such was personally inclined to affection toward the noble class. He must be extraordinary in some fashion to have retained resentful feelings regarding Jil. More logically, he ought to have had a kind of crush on her. All the same, he could have approached her in a more respectful fashion, and for that he deserved a dressing down.

My conveyance must have connected with the central traffic computer and received information, for we turned immediately right and began to follow a major thoroughfare. It was crowded with all manner of covered vehicles, most of them goods carriers. As I had noted on our first visit to the palace, most people enjoyed walking in the shade under the canvas drapes. They would certainly reach their destination sooner than I would.

“Are we close to them?” I asked the vehicle.

“They are ninety-seven meters ahead of us, sir,” it replied. The information screen before me, which up until then had been airing cheerful public service digitavids about the scenes to see in Memepocotel, changed to a heads up display of the street, with arrows indicating blips in the traffic pattern that represented me and my quarry. On my right, the hire car passed the Raffles. For a horrible moment, I thought it might stop there. Did they know where we were staying? The man had seemed surprised to encounter Jil. Or, even more terrible yet, were they resident in the same place? But no, the taxi went beyond the entrance. I hoped we might catch up before they got too much further.

To my annoyance, it negotiated a tight squeeze in between two larger vehicles and made it to the nearest intersection. It turned to the right. I waited, almost bouncing up and down with impatience, until we reached the same intersection. My body surged forward as though urging my vehicle to greater speed.

Around the corner, the neighborhood changed rapidly. From the elegant shopping district studded with expensive hotels, it became more modest, then almost run-down in character. The stone walls that had been so lovingly painted in bright pigments on the main thoroughfare were peeling here. The Uctus walking underneath the cool arcades wore fewer high-fashion items and more utilitarian garb. This must be the district where those lived who worked in the elegant shopping district.

A six-story building heaved up on my left. I read the name across its brow: the Home of Deep Welcome. Its façade bravely resisted the decay of its fellows. Carvings on the corners and the doorposts were just as beautiful as those on the palace. I suspected this area long predated the neighborhood in which I was staying. It might even have been a contemporary of Visoltia’s home.

Hire car number 187 pulled away from the steps of the tall building. I all but drummed my heels on the floor until my conveyance pulled up to the entrance. I prepared to emerge, when my viewpad hummed in my pocket. I pulled it up and thumbed the screen. It was Parsons.

“Where are you, my lord? Lady Jil has just returned in a disturbed state.”

“Yes, the fellow whom she assaulted on Starling Island is here. He must have followed her from the Imperium. The nerve of the man is overwhelming! I am about to alight and tell him what I think of his behavior.”

The voice in my ear was as soothing as a lullaby.

“He could not have followed Lady Jil. He arrived before us, my lord. It is possible that he anticipated your plans, but the chances are greater that he has a different purpose for his presence on Nacer.”

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