A Confusion of Princes (11 page)

‘Uh, good,’ I said. ‘What gallantry award?’

‘Your courageous action in defending the access to the base-temple interface has resulted in you being made a Hero of the Empire, Second Class, Highness,’ said Haddad. ‘Which typically comes with an additional allocation of priests or other resources, such as a ship.’

‘I’ve been granted a ship?’ I asked excitedly.

‘No, Highness,’ said Haddad. ‘That was purely an example. But please allow me to introduce Uncle Hormidh and Uncle Gorrakh from the Aspect of the Kindly Gardener. Hormidh is a battle surgeon, and Gorrakh’s particular expertise is in nanoscopic Bitek—phages and so forth; Uncle Rerrunk and Aunt Viviax from the Aspect of the Rigorous Engineer—they have considerable experience in small Mektek systems and weapons; Aunt Waldhrun from the Aspect of the Instructive Father, who is a specialist in Mektek/Psitek information system and interfaces; and Uncle Naljalk, from the Aspect of the Cold Calculator, who is a probability forecaster. My apprentices above you are known for the moment as U-One, U-Two, U-Three, and U-Four. The
U
stands for useless, a state that I trust will be temporary.’

‘Ah, hello, everyone,’ I said. ‘Welcome to my service.’

I gave a kind of wave, which stopped halfway as I looked at my hand. It was the same as ever, visually and to my internal audit, which meant that under my skin, the bones were much tougher than any normal human’s, grown that way by Bitek genetic manipulation, but also strengthened with Mektek sheaths and overlays.

All of which had taken years and years when I was a child. . .

‘Haddad,’ I asked. ‘How . . . how long ago was I killed?’

‘It has been twelve days since your heroic action, Highness,’ replied Haddad. He made a sign with his hand, and the priests all turned and filed out of the room. The apprentice assassins lightly leaped to the floor and followed them.

‘Twelve days? Is that all? But how can . . . how is it possible that I have my old body . . . I mean the augmentation, everything that took all those years . . .’

‘It is a mystery of the Empire,’ said Haddad. ‘Sometimes a rebirth is fast, like your own, Highness. Sometimes it may take several years. You could inquire of a Priest of the Aspect of the Emperor’s Discerning Hand, but I do not think you would receive an answer.’

I filed that away for later inquiry while I thought about the whole rebirth thing. It was such a basic foundation of being a Prince, but I’d never really given the matter much attention before. Now I was wondering if there were other Khemris kept on ice somewhere, completely augmented clones, ready to have my personality transferred into them. Presumably at the cost of whatever proto-Khemri already existed inside that brain, however dormant.

Later I would think more about that, and what my rebirth might be costing someone else. At that moment, I was simply elated to be alive, and there was also this business of an award. I was a hero?

‘So how come I’m getting a medal?’ I asked Haddad as I got up and flexed, checking further that everything was operational. ‘I didn’t think any of it was witnessed by the Mind.’

‘It wasn’t witnessed by the Mind,’ said Haddad. ‘But everything was very comprehensively recorded by the Mektek security in the corridors, and also in the visual cortexes of the troopers, three of which were retrieved and the data extracted.’

‘I’m still surprised Huzand would put me in for a medal,’ I remarked, wrapping myself in the Bitek robe from the end of my bed. It purred a little and adjusted itself to fit, while also lifting its temperature to provide a pleasant warmth. Haddad handed me my phage emitter and deintegration wand. I checked both, then stowed them in the appropriate pockets of the robe, at the same time thinking that I must add a few more weapons to my personal armoury. Weapons that held more ammunition. A lot more ammunition.

‘The Commandant didn’t, Highness,’ replied Haddad. ‘Your commendation came from Commander Glemri, the Marine officer, and went via Marine channels.’

‘Meaning Huzand would have stopped it if he could,’ I said bitterly. ‘I suppose I still have to go straight back to duty and keep working off my demerits.’

‘Actually, Highness, the approval of your decoration by the Imperial Mind has cleared all demerits,’ said Haddad. ‘And you have three days of post-mortality leave.’

That cheered me up. Three days’ leave! I hadn’t had such an expanse of peaceful, untrammelled time for so long, and I had not yet been able to experience the pleasures that I’d planned for my off-duty hours.

‘Haddad,’ I said briskly, ‘what mind-programmed servants do I have here?’

‘Two cooks, two waiters, two porters, a valet, two female courtesans, two male courtesans, and you also have a nonhuman masseur, a Vivarkh, who is not mind-programmed but has had loyalty conditioning.’

‘Excellent!’ I clapped my hands, thinking exactly how I would allocate my time. ‘First, have the cooks make a feast. Something of everything I’ve missed for the last five months, just in tasting portions, with appropriate wines and other stimulants. The courtesans can come along to that, and I shall make a selection for later. First, however, that Vivarkh masseur, while my valet can lay out some clothes—anything that is not a cadet uniform!’

The blue fluid in Haddad’s head roiled, and I caught the edge of a communication.

‘You have a visitor, Highness,’ said Haddad.

‘Tell them to go away!’ I snapped. ‘I’m on leave!’

‘It is the Commandant, Prince Huzand,’ said Haddad. His eyes narrowed, just a fraction. ‘This is very unusual. Naljalk is calculating possibilities. The most likely scenario is that now that you have become noticed by higher authorities, he wishes to invite you again to join House Jerrazis. This could in fact be a sensible course for Your Highness to adopt.’

‘Uh, I never told you the reason I refused,’ I said. ‘I’ve been wanting to talk about this, but . . . um . . . are we completely secure here?’

‘As far as possible,’ replied Haddad.

‘Keep this to yourself, but the fact is, an Arch-Priest of the Discerning Hand told me not to join any House, and not to tell anyone about that, except . . . and this is interesting . . . she did say I could tell you. . . ’ If I thought that was going to surprise Haddad, I was wrong. His face remained as inscrutable as ever.

‘Did the arch-priest give you their name?’ he asked.

‘Yes, Morojal.’

‘Where did you meet her?’

‘At my connection to the Imperial Mind. It wasn’t the ordinary priest you saw later.’

‘This greatly modifies the possible outcomes,’ said Haddad. ‘Because you
must
refuse any invitation to join House Jerrazis. But another refusal will incense Huzand. In my opinion he is already in a less than optimal mental state. The probability he will do something . . . ill-advised . . . is . . . Naljalk?’

:Probability of illegal action 0.145: sent Uncle Naljalk.

‘Considerably higher than I would like,’ continued Haddad. ‘But we can’t refuse him directly. I suggest you meet the Commandant in your reception room. My apprentices and I will be on hand, and you should take care to witness, Highness. If it is an invitation to join Jerrazis, ask for time to think about it. Even a few days could be crucial.’

‘What can he do?’ I asked anxiously. ‘I mean, you said before he can’t assassinate a cadet, or challenge me to a duel.’

‘He cannot legally do anything, and if he does anything against Imperial Law, there would be dire consequences for him,’ said Haddad. ‘However, there is an element of irrationality at work in Prince Huzand, which has been rising over time. U-Two is watching him in the antechamber now and reports unusual facial colouring, likely the side effect of a drug.’

‘A drug!’

I’d thought Huzand’s red flushes to be a visual preference, not a side effect of something else. Also, while Princes off duty could consume whatever drugs they wished, as their internal systems could usually flush the effects within minutes, the use of mood-altering or mind-bending Bitek was totally forbidden when on duty. It was also supposed to be nearly impossible for a Prince to become addicted to something, provided you kept an eye on your own internal biochemistry and adjusted it accordingly.

‘The Commandant is believed to be very fond of raziskiba,’ said Haddad. ‘A minor drug that enhances self-belief and good feeling, but in extreme doses also increases the possibility of uncontrolled bouts of rage.’

‘Great,’ I said. ‘I thought he was bad enough before. Is this an official visit?’

I hadn’t actually queried the Mind, but it answered anyway.

:Huzand <> off duty <>:

‘Maybe he’s come to congratulate me on my medal,’ I said as we went through to the reception room. ‘Should I change out of my robe?’

‘Given his history with Your Highness, he would be unlikely to offer congratulations now, informally. Naljalk calculates that as a 0.02 chance. The official medal presentation is scheduled for your return to duty in four days,’ said Haddad; at the same time he mentally transferred the details to me. ‘As you can see, the award will be made not by the Commandant but by Vice Admiral Elrokhi, the sector commander, who is en route here from Lastamen. I doubt that this visit is something the Commandant will be pleased about.’

The reception room still had its original decoration scheme, as I had not had time to order changes. The previous Prince who had occupied it had chosen to fill it with large, inflatable cushions stacked in tiered columns according to colour density, darkest to lightest. It made it a kind of bulbous rainbow forest and was in my view a complete waste of space. If you leaned against a column you bounced off, and there were so many of them that you had to weave a zigzag path just to get in and out of the room.

One of Haddad’s apprentices held up a viewer to show the entrance hall of my chambers. Huzand was waiting right near the inner door, alone, unaccompanied by cadet officers, priests, or his assassins.

The Commandant did look even more red faced than usual, and shorter, too, since he was off his ramp. He was in basic field uniform, camouflage set to ship grey, but he was still wearing powered miniatures of his medals and many specialist badges, and he had the Gift of the Emperor sidearm on his belt.

‘I don’t like this. Perhaps you should communicate that you are not able to receive visitors,’ suggested Haddad. ‘Some disorientation is permissible after a rebirth.’

I thought about that for a second. But I was feeling overconfident again. After all, I had survived the mass assault of Sad-Eye puppets
and
I was a Hero of the Empire, Second Class.

‘Let him in,’ I commanded.

Huzand marched into the room as if he owned it, stopping with the crash of boots only when he saw me standing in front of him, clad only in my highly disrespectful purring Bitek robe.

‘Cadet Khemri,’ he said. His mouth twitched strangely as he said my name, and all of a sudden I knew for sure that he wasn’t there to reinvite me to House Jerrazis.

‘Yes, Commandant,’ I replied warily.

‘I knew you were up to no good from the start,’ said Huzand. ‘You looked too much like Atalin. I didn’t know what it meant at first, but now I do, and you’re not going to get away with it.’

‘Um, get away with what, sir?’ I asked.

‘Substituting yourself for a good cadet!’ shouted Huzand. ‘A good Jerrazis cadet!’

I glanced at Haddad out of the corner of my eye.

:I do not know what he is referring to: sent Haddad. :You recall Atalin was the cadet who met us when we first landed here; there is a strong physical resemblance:

‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,’ I said soothingly. Encouraged by the fact that the Imperial Mind was observing all this, I gestured at a tray of silver goblets. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’

Huzand was not to be soothed. He advanced closer to me, and I saw that there were bubbles of what could only be froth in the corners of his mouth.

‘Don’t play stupid with me, boy,’ he hissed. ‘I know Vethethezk is behind this, probably with Tivand or Youngre as well, and I’m not going to let you put one over on me or my House.’

I still wasn’t worried about all this posturing, until all of a sudden I was cut off from the Imperial Mind and Huzand went for the ivory-handled revolver at his side.

I would like to say that I reacted instantly, drawing my own deintegration wand. But I didn’t react instantly. I was slow. I gaped in disbelief, and the wand was stuck in the stupid purring robe, and Huzand got the revolver out and pointed it toward me as I hurled myself aside into one of the inflated columns, and then his finger curled into the trigger guard and pulled, and he missed me because I was bouncing back the other way, and I had the wand out and fired it as he fired again, only my shot burned a dinner plate-sized hole through his head while his shot only grazed my shoulder.

I stared down at the headless body of the Commandant of the Academy and flinched as I felt the Imperial Mind reconnect and resume witnessing. Huzand, who naturally had far more priests than a mere cadet, had been blocking. With his death, that had ceased.

I wondered how many demerits a cadet could get for killing their own Commandant . . . if such a thing had ever happened in the past.

I also wondered how he’d missed his first shot. At least until I saw Haddad bend over and remove a small dart from the deceased Prince’s neck.

‘Paralysis dart,’ replied Haddad, answering my unspoken question. Perhaps I’d mind-sent it without thinking. ‘However, it was also slow, for which I apologise, Highness. Fortunately I think his aim was affected by the drug.’

‘What happens now?’ I croaked. Uncle Hormidh was already pulling away my robe to check out the bullet wound. I could hardly feel it, the shock of having a dead superior at my feet rather overriding everything else. Uncle Rerrunk saw my expression and went and got one of my sheets to put over the dead Commandant’s body.

‘There will be an inquiry,’ said Haddad. ‘But the facts are quite clear. The former Prince Huzand came to your private quarters, and his priests blocked the Mind witnessing, not yours. Why would he have done that save to avoid the inconvenience of it being a witness to murder? Without direct evidence, he hoped to get away with it.’