Fortunes of the Imperium (43 page)

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Authors: Jody Lynn Nye

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“That is his parents’ sin, but it could be corrected by positive measures,” Visoltia said, her small face tensing. “Will he return and swear allegiance to me?”

“I very much doubt it,” I said truthfully. Her eyes were sorrowful.

“Then, I am sorry, my dear Thomasin. I cannot forgive him.”

The mood had fallen to the floor and was trying to mine its way through the colorful tiles. I hastened to retrieve it. I reached into the pocket of my amber-colored jacket and brought out a small bundle.

“Your Serenity, I have brought a very special family relic of my own to share with you. One of my mother’s distant ancestors was renowned for having the second sight. These are her Tarot cards.”

“What is ‘second sight’?”

“Natural intuition of a strong type. She was believed to be able to see the future. And to do that, she used these.” I untied the cloth and displayed the contents. Visoltia looked at them in delight.

“Truly? But how pretty!”

Visoltia put the cards between her palms and closed her eyes. “These cards have been in many hands. I feel . . . personalities.”

Jil peered at her, seeing if she was shamming, but I did not think the Autocrat was that accomplished at subterfuge. Her emotions were on her face for all to read.

“I believe you do,” Jil said, in awe. “She’s much more in tune than you are, Thomas.”

“Billions are,” I agreed. I admit that I was likely less sensitive than a girl for whom nuance could affect the lives of countless subjects. I had no more explanation for aura-reading as I did for psychic phenomena. “Would you like me to show you how to read them, Visoltiara? It is a most entertaining pastime.”

“Oh, yes!”

It was the matter of a moment to put the interpretation manual through a translation program to render it into formal Uctu. I set my viewpad on the divan between us and showed her how to lay out that most common of interpretive readings, the Celtic Cross. I encouraged her to deal out ten cards in the traditional pattern.

The ladies gathered around us, complimenting the Autocrat on her gift for reading the symbols on each card. Not surprisingly, Uctu mythology had similar interpretations of common, everyday objects that both of our species used, such as cups and swords.

“What is this terrible one, Thomasin?” Visoltia asked, turning up the Tower card. “What a terrible and violent image!”

“Well, that is in your environment,” I said. “Something is preparing to come to smash. You just need to make certain you are not caught up in it. Does that bring something to mind?”

“Like what?” the girl asked.

I shrugged wildly.

“I have no idea. It’s just a picture, you know.”

I caught a summing glance from Banitra and Sinim. It would be best not to appear too competent. Our journey would come to an end soon enough, and I did not want them seeing me as a strong and reliable helpmeet. I greatly preferred to have them as friends, or distant acquaintances, once we returned to Keinolt, not permanent love interests.

Jil was not fooled.

“Oh, Thomas, I am sure you have the entire manual memorized. What should Visoltiara beware of?”

I never expected her to have my best interests at heart. I sighed.

“Well, what are you fearful of losing? What would upset you if it ended?”

“The love and well-being of my people is the most important thing in my life,” Visoltia said. “If it is destined that I should fail in their protection, that is the worst thing I can think of.”

“The next card depicts your hopes and fears.”

To my everlasting relief, she turned over the Sun.

“Marvelous!” I exclaimed.

I heard the door open behind us. Before I knew it, Lord Toliaus had appeared to loom over us. Disliking his arrogant attitude, Jil and I stared balefully at him, but he ignored our disapproval. Jil recoiled slightly when he did not retreat. She still did not quite understand our lack of influence. But Visoltia was eager to show him her new game.

“Oh, High Wisdom, look at this! Lord Thomas brought this Tarot deck for me to see. It is full of such interesting pictures that my mind is quite filled with ideas!”

He made the same hand sign that Visoltia had on our first visit, and made a great show of averting his eyes.

“Cast these from you, Autocrat!” he boomed. “Terrible things are associated with this artifact. Contact with it will bring you evil!”

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” I asked. “They are only a storytelling device. They are useful in helping to unlock one’s natural intuition, of which Her Excellence seems to have a sufficiency. She could find a great deal of wisdom in exploring her own thoughts through their assistance.”

His eyes crackled with hate.

“Give them to me!” he said. “I know what you say they are for, but it is a lie. They will brainwash her! She can be harmed!”

He was doing his best to undermine my efforts to give her a tool that would aid insight. Clearly, if anyone intended to brainwash the Autocrat, it was the High Wisdom himself. I knew a fellow charlatan when I saw one. He had the Autocrat convinced that his way was the only way. That concerned me deeply. The Autocracy was our nearest neighbor and, for several years, had become our closest friend. Visoltia was so young, not only in years, but in experience. She needed a buffer between them so she could grow up, but now was not the time to fight this battle.

“If you wish me to take them from your presence, Your Serenity, I shall,” I said. I rose and bowed, keeping the deck against my chest. The Autocrat put out a beseeching hand.

“Oh, don’t go yet!”

“As you please, dear lady,” I said. I sat down again.

“Then I will take the cards,” Toliaus said, swooping down upon us. “They are too dangerous to her presence. She is the sun and stars of our nation!”

But I was not a reigning champion of tri-tennis for nothing. Before he could touch them, I snatched up the cards and held them behind me, out of his reach unless he actually jumped up on the divan with us. His hands closed on empty air.

“No, I am afraid you can’t have them,” I said. “But you can watch me enchant them so they will never hurt the lady.”

I shuffled them before his eyes. Since she had never seen the skill before, and I was curious that such an advanced people had never created pasteboards for entertainment and gambling, it did look very impressive.

“There is no magic here! You are just flipping them around in your hands,” Lord Toliaus said.

“No magic? Then what do you call . . . this?”

I took my hands away, and the deck kept dancing. The tiny devices I had added to the Tarot cards would not harm the ancient relics, and I could remove them easily later if my mother insisted.

Banitra put her hand over her mouth. Her eyes twinkled.

“That is indeed great magic,” she said. She turned to the High Wisdom, whose eyes were all but starting out of his head. “Lord Thomas is known as a wizard among noble circles.”

“Very pretty, Thomas,” Jil said, dismissively. She had seen it time and again on the
Rodrigo
, of course.

The High Wisdom was beaten and he knew it.

“Well, you have control over them. I will trust you,” he added grudgingly, “to put them where they can do no harm to the high lady.”

I inclined my head a polite degree.

“Thank you.”

“The High Wisdom can do wonders like that, too,” Visoltia said. “Perhaps you will favor me with one at the accession feast, Lord Toliaus?”

“As Your Excellence wishes,” he said. He was so angry that I would not have been surprised to see his scales leaping from his body to get away from the heat.

“I look forward to seeing what you can do,” I said, my tone halfway to a sneer. He could not have missed my implication.

Gathering the skirts of his robe about him, Lord Toliaus skulked out of the room.

I was glad to see him go. I did not like him. I vowed to take him down a peg or twelve. Not only would it benefit Visoltia and the Autocracy in general, but it would feed my sense of justice. I had no idea yet how I would do it, but I vowed not to leave the planet until I had. Plans began to percolate in my mind, each one more diabolical than the previous one. I believe that I snickered out loud.

“Thomas!” Jil exclaimed.

My attention came back to the discussion just as it reached a subject that I knew well: current fashion.

“Will you help me to choose a costume for the accession feast?” Visoltia asked them in excitement. “It is my second year as Autocrat, a great celebration.”

“Why would you wear human-style clothes on such an occasion?” Jil asked. “That is very important. It sounds like it ought to be all about
you
.”

“Because you are my guests for the feast,” Visoltia explained. “It is an old custom, to exchange one’s outer shell for that of your visitors. We remember that it is the person inside who is important, not how they look, and we will come to understand more about one another in that fashion.”

“In that case, we should all go shopping together,” Sinim said. “We look to you for advice on what we should choose in Uctu fashion.”

“Oh, I would love to!” Visoltia said, beckoning to her servants. “Ema! Tcocna!”

The ladies appeared at her side.

“It is all arranged, my darling,” Ema said, smoothing the Autocrat’s gown as if she were a small child. “Flitters will await you at the palace door. They are programmed with the locations of the best shops.”

They immediately began to discuss what to look for, and what colors and fabrics were appropriate.

I cleared my throat, my deeper voice cutting through the soprano twittering.

“I beg your pardon for interrupting. I wonder, Visoltiara, if you would mind if I joined you midway into the shopping expedition? I have an appointment that is to the benefit of all of us.”

Visoltia nodded gravely.

“I give you my permission, but do not leave us waiting too long, Thomasin.”

I dipped my head in gratitude.

“I will be there just as soon as I can.”

I escorted the ladies to the palace doors and assisted them into the floating litter whose arched canopy would protect them against the fierce sun. A humbler vehicle bobbed along behind, carrying Tcocna, several more servants and containers filled with refreshments and iced beverages. The Autocrat, as was appropriate to her station, traveled in comfort as well as style.

Once they had gone, Ema showed me to a room with a looking glass, where I changed from the soft fabric of my warmly-hued suit to my naval dress uniform. I smoothed every seam and combed my hair until every strand lay in the necessary direction.

“You look terribly official,” I told my reflection. “I hope you can be as effective as you look.”

CHAPTER 38

Janice’s aide, Donal Nirdan, had confirmed to me by message the time and place of my appointment with the High Protector. At the very moment of that designated hour, I presented myself at the bronze-bound doors in the corridor. The two Uctu soldiers, one old enough to be my father, the other with light blue spots on his face indicating his extreme youth, took my name and repeated it to an audio pickup point in the lintel. I offered them a friendly smile and a compliment on the day’s weather, but apart from making certain they were pronouncing my name correctly, they returned neither to me.

I waited, my back straight and my feet at the precisely correct parallel, until the door opened to me eighteen minutes later. I stayed where I was, until I heard an impatient bark.

“Come in now!” The voice was that of Rimbalius himself.

I marched forward and stood just inside the doorway. To my surprise, the office was a private one. It was no wider than three times the length of the desk behind which Rimbalius hulked. No one else was present, not a secretary, nor any mechanicals. He looked up at me with the same glaring impatience that most senior officers employed when faced with one Thomas Kinago.

“I am very busy,” Rimbalius said, waving to an unpadded bench that stood at the side of the desk. “State your business and be gone.”

I slid onto the bench, keeping my eyes on him.

“Thank you for your time,” I said. He lifted a lip impatiently.

“It is at the Autocrat’s behest. What do you want? What matters do you wish to discuss with me that you won’t with her?”

“There are several topics of importance that I have been sent by my cousin the emperor to inquire about,” I said. “I have tried to bring them up to Her Excellence, but it occurred to me that I would probably get more action on the matters if I laid them at your feet. It is not lost on me, or anyone else who has had to deal with multiple layers of bureaucracy, that the person at the top of a pyramid of authority is not necessarily the one who can or will act upon a situation.”

“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?”

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