Bones of Empire (22 page)

“That's absurd,” Enynn objected tactlessly. “We have never heard of such creatures, but even if they exist, it would be impossible to trick us in such a manner. We would notice the difference.”

“Really?” Usurlus inquired, as his eyes roamed the faces across from him. “Tell me something. . . . Where
is
Ambassador Nusk? Why isn't he here?”

There was a moment of silence as Enynn looked at his companions and they at him.
Take care,
Orery cautioned,
I sense the Umans are being truthful. . . . Why prevaricate where such a thing is concerned?

Enynn swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as the implications of the situation became increasingly clear. “We don't know where Ambassador Nusk is,” he said hoarsely. “He disappeared.”

“I'm afraid it's our turn to extend condolences,” Usurlus replied sympathetically. “I suggest that you check to see if Nusk's disappearance was coincident with the discovery of a dead body. It may have been whole, or part of it may have been eaten, because the Sagathies are quite carnivorous.”

Enynn was convinced by that time, because there
had
been a mysterious death, but one of his colleagues was still skeptical. His name was Inhor Atil Yoneb. “This has gone far enough. . . . We are here to discuss the relationship between two empires. Let's get on with it.”

Usurlus smiled thinly as he turned to Brunus. “It seems our guests have doubts regarding the veracity of our claims, sire. . . . How would
you
respond?”

Slowly, so that the shocked Vords had plenty of time in which to appreciate what was taking place, Brunus morphed into a fearsome-looking reptile. “How would
I
respond?” the creature echoed. “I would eat them if given the chance! They look very tasty.”

Having forced Inobo to bring the shape shifter in from Sagatha, Usurlus was anything but surprised by the transformation, but judging from the expressions on their faces, the Vords were clearly horrified. “I apologize for startling you,” he said, “but we Umans have a saying: ‘A picture is worth a thousand words.' ”

And with that, Usurlus and the rest of the Uman delegation stood as the door to the Imperial Residence opened, and the
real
Brunus entered the reception hall. He bowed, as did his Sagathi twin. Then they began to circle each other until it became hard to know which was which.

“You can see the problem,” Usurlus said gravely. “That's why we keep the Sagathies confined to their home planet—and our genetic engineers were ordered to develop a strain of variants specifically equipped to deal with exotic sentients. Individuals like Centurion Cato, who can identify a shape shifter no matter what form he or she might adopt. Cato,” Usurlus said, “please point to the
real
Emperor Emor.”

Cato “saw” the Uman's emotions, took a step forward, and pointed him out. That was the Sagathi's cue to revert to his true form, thereby concluding the agreement struck with his jailers. Once back on the surface of Sagatha, he would never be allowed to leave, but there was a huge difference between a prison cell and being allowed to roam the jungle, a freedom he missed and was looking forward to enjoying again.

“So,” Usurlus said thoughtfully, “if such a creature could infiltrate the Imperial Tower here on Corin, and murder the Emperor's father, then imagine what
two
of them could do within your society.”

“
Two
of them?” Enynn inquired hoarsely.

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” Usurlus replied. “Both of whom are probably on Therat by now.”

“It's a trick!” Yoneb objected. “They're trying to scare us! Trying to make us evacuate Therat.”

Enynn was no fool. He looked at Yoneb, then back again. “What happened to Nusk's remains?” he demanded. “Do you have them?”

“We have some of them,” the real Brunus replied as he spoke for the first time. “I'm sorry to say that the rest were eaten—just as my father's were. But, once you perform DNA tests, you'll know for sure. The being who boarded your ship was an imposter.”

With that, Usurlus pressed a remote. That was the cue for a female slave bearing a beautifully wrought wooden box to enter the hall, approach the table, and place the container on the gleaming surface. Enynn, who had a hard time taking his eyes off the box, stood. “I apologize, but it will be necessary for us to withdraw and engage in private consultations.”

“Of course,” Brunus said understandingly. “It's a lot to absorb.”

“Can I join you?” a
second
Enynn inquired, and laughed as the Vords hurried to escape the room.

“Get that thing out of here,” Brunus ordered as he swung around to lock eyes with Inobo. “And if it escapes on the way to Sagatha, be sure to commit suicide. There won't be any point in coming back. Ambassador Nusk would be alive had you been doing your job.”

Inobo's face turned pale, Cato smiled bleakly, and the meeting was over.

 

 

Having made arrangements to leave work early, Cato stopped by a store to buy a bouquet of flowers before starting the long climb that would take him home. The plan was to surprise Alamy and take her out to dinner, both because he hadn't been around much and had something important to tell her.

But once he arrived at Arbor House it was to discover that the upstairs apartment was empty. Thinking that Alamy might be downstairs, chatting with Madam Faustus, Cato went down to let her know he was home. When Faustus opened the door, she saw the flowers and smiled. “For me? How thoughtful!”

Cato grinned and plucked a flower out of the bouquet. “This one is for you.”

Faustus held the blossom up to her nose. “It smells sweet. . . . Please come in.”

Once inside, Cato took a quick look around. “Is Alamy here? She wasn't upstairs.”

“No,” Faustus replied, “she went shopping. She'll be home in an hour or so. Please. . . . Have a seat.”

Cato didn't want to sit and chat with his landlady but couldn't figure out how to escape, so he sat in the chair that had once been her husband's. The flowers felt awkward in his hands. “Is there a problem with the rent or something?”

“No,” Faustus said, “Alamy is very punctual. She always pays on time. In fact, if it wasn't for her taste in men, she would be an altogether perfect young woman.”

Cato frowned as Faustus held up her hand. “Don't even think about leaving. . . . Not until you hear me out. I'll double your rent if you do!”

There was a disarming smile on her face, but Cato could “feel” how serious she was. “Okay,” he said cautiously, “what's on your mind?”

“Somebody needs to tell you the truth,” Faustus answered, “and since Alamy can't, I will. What you're doing to her is very cruel. You promised to free her, and to marry her, but that was months ago. Meanwhile, she's left to wait and wonder if you intend to keep your promises.”

“I never promised to marry her,” Cato countered defensively.

“It was implied,” Faustus said primly. “You know Alamy. . . . Or you should. Given a choice, she wouldn't settle for anything less.”

“I meant to free her,” Cato said lamely. “I just never got around to it.”

“Really?” Faustus demanded cynically, as her eyes bored into his. “You've been busy. I know that. . . . But Alamy is a human being. Not a project to be taken care of when you happen to have time.”

Cato felt both embarrassed and ashamed. Some of his feelings must have been visible on his face because the expression on her face softened. “I know you mean well, Jak. . . . You bought Alamy in order to protect her, after all. But who can protect her from
you
? And whatever it is that keeps you from giving her a place in your life as well as in your bed?”

It was a tough question, and one that was still echoing through Cato's mind an hour later, when Alamy returned home. She was thrilled to receive the flowers, and her eyes sparkled with excitement as they set out to have dinner at a downslope restaurant that had good food and a magnificent view of the city.

Once they were seated on the terrace, with wineglasses in front of them, talk soon turned to the future and the need to acquire some more furniture. But, knowing what he did, Cato was forced to steer the conversation in an entirely different direction. “Alamy, there's something I need to tell you.”

Cato “felt” the sudden surge of hope that followed his words, and with the criticism from Faustus fresh in his mind, he hurried to head off the possibility of a misunderstanding. “There's every reason to believe that Verafti not only escaped Corin but is making his way to Therat, where he hopes to find his mate.”

Her hope having flared, Cato “felt” it start to fade as a look of concern appeared on Alamy's face. “You're going there, aren't you? To find Verafti and bring him in. Assuming such a thing is possible.”

“Someone has to,” Cato replied defensively. “You of all people know what he's capable of. And I'm the most qualified. Nobody knows the rotten bastard better than I do. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I could be gone for months. Or however long the process of finding him takes.”

There was a long moment of silence during which she just stared at him. Finally, he saw a look of grim determination appear in her eyes. “All right, then,” she said calmly. “I'm coming, too.”

“No,” Cato said firmly. “It wouldn't be safe.”

Alamy's eyes narrowed. “Was it safe on Dantha? Was it safe in the motorcade? Was it safe when the slithers attacked our apartment?”

“No,” Cato replied weakly, “but I couldn't predict those things. This is certain. Verafti will fight back—and there's his mate to consider as well.”

Alamy was unconvinced. “So, is Section Leader Shani going to accompany you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, “as part of my team.”

“Then make me part of your team,” Alamy insisted angrily. “Or sell me and bank the money. It will earn interest while you're gone.”

“Alamy,” Cato objected as he reached out to take her hand, “you can't mean that.”

“But I
do
mean it,” Alamy said stubbornly as she pulled her hand back out of reach. “I'm your slave, so I can't force you to do anything, but if you have any feelings for me whatsoever, you'll do as I request. Take me or sell me. And don't tell me you can't. Usurlus will give you anything you want at this point. Regulations be damned.”

Cato shook his head and sighed. It seemed some battles were lost before they even began. “All right,” he agreed. “You win. . . . But you may be sorry.”

“Perhaps,” Alamy conceded, “but it's what I want.”

“I don't deserve you,” Cato said contritely, as she allowed him to capture her hand.

“No,” Alamy answered with a stiff smile, “you don't.”

“But you deserve
this
,” Cato countered as he pushed a small box across the table. “Go ahead—open it.”

Alamy hadn't been on the receiving end of very many gifts during her life, so receiving one was special in and of itself, but the fact that it was from Cato made it doubly so. She removed the ribbon, fumbled the lid off, and looked within. And there, cradled in a nest of red velvet, was a necklace. It consisted of a stylized sun, complete with wavy points all around and a sizeable ruby at its center. Alamy looked up. Her face was flushed. “Really? For
me
?”

“Yes,” Cato said gently, “for you. For the sun that rises in front of me every morning.” Cato wasn't very good at coming up with such sentiments on the fly, so the words had a rehearsed quality, but that did nothing to lessen Alamy's pleasure as he came over to fasten the silver chain around her neck. And that was when the empath learned what it felt like to give a gift and receive it at the same time.

 

 

It was just past 6:00 AM, the morning was cold, and Usurlus was naked from the waist up as he started across the vast parade ground that the legionnaires referred to as “the grinder.” The open area occupied the center of the huge military base that claimed the northwest quarter of the city. Usurlus normally rose about 10:00, so it was the last place he wanted to be at that time of day, but the new Emperor routinely rose at 4:30. Not only that, the ex-general was a fitness fanatic and expected everyone else to be one as well. Even reserve officers like Usurlus.

So Brunus thought nothing of combining meetings with exercise on the theory that doing so was more efficient and served to keep such gatherings short. Just one of the prices Usurlus had been forced to pay in order to take what was arguably the second-most-powerful position in the Empire. Was it worth it? No, Usurlus decided as he arrived at an oval of green grass surrounded by an elliptical track. But it was too late to back out as Brunus turned to greet him.

Like Usurlus's, the Emperor's torso was bare. He had slablike pectorals, biceps as thick as an average man's thighs, and sinewy forearms. Scars could be seen here and there, along with a tattoo for each legion he had served with, nine of them. “There you are!” Brunus proclaimed cheerfully, as a small group of equally fit officers looked on. “Now there are six of us. Three against three. It will be the
pilum
this morning, gentlemen. . . . A rather primitive weapon to be sure, but useful in a pinch, and still used against us out on the rim.

“Team one will consist of Chief of Staff Usurlus, Tribune Oracus, and me. A rather creaky army that the rest of you should be able to defeat without difficulty. Any questions? No? Then let's get to it.”