Alien Chronicles 2 - The Crimson Claw (25 page)

“Forgive me, sire, for waking you.”

The Kaa glared at the chancellor. “Stop apologizing,” he said sharply. “Our illness has passed from us. Now speak. What news do you bring?”

Temondahl looked at him and flicked out his tongue. “Fresh communiqués have arrived. The sri-Kaa is en route. She should be arriving at the palace shortly after dinner. All has been prepared for her. Attendants are waiting to conduct her to—”

“See that she is taken directly to her apartments,” the Kaa ordered. “Let none of the courtiers wait on her. She is to be seen by no one in the court. She must have her privacy at this time, if she is to make a swift recovery.”

“She is reported to be well, and the courtiers are most concerned for her.”

The Kaa’s tongue flicked out in annoyance. “She is to be cloistered in her apartments, with only her servants to attend her. She must make a complete recovery, with nothing to distress her. Let there be no visitors, except for the physician.”

“Yes, sire.”

“We shall go to her as soon as she is settled. In the morning would be best,” the Kaa said. “See that she is informed of this and prepared for our visit.”

“As the Imperial Father commands.”

“We shall see for ourself what damage has been done.” As he spoke, he felt a tremor of fresh anger, like heat, building inside him. Swiftly he controlled it, not wanting to reexperience that terrible pain.

A chime sounded on the small linkup, indicating an incoming message.

The Kaa gestured for it to be activated. Temondahl himself touched the controls.

The blank screen formed an image of the distinctive argent and azure seal of the Commander General; then that faded and the fierce visage of Lord Belz shimmered into place. Wearing his uniform of bright green, his medals winking and glittering with every breath, the Commander General blinked as though trying to focus, then inclined his head low enough for the Kaa to see the old battle scar that puckered the skin at the back of his skull. Normally such a scar would have been removed surgically, but Lord Belz wore the reminders of his war wounds with pride and honor. No one at court dared avert their gaze from the ugliness of his scars. Seeing Belz now reminded the Kaa of his general’s many years of service, as well as his utter loyalty.

The Kaa forced himself to sit very straight and regally in his chair, displaying none of his recent infirmity.

“Greetings of Belz, Commander General, and all due respect submitted to Sahmrahd Kaa,” the Commander General said formally, his voice gruff and terse.

The Kaa inclined his head every so slightly. “What news?” he asked, dispensing with the normal courtesies.

Belz did not even blink. He stood at attention on the screen, his gaze direct and his rill semi-erect behind his head. “Evidence of premeditated treason or rebellion against the throne is sketchy. The plotters were clever and kept things simple. Whether the attack was organized locally or from elsewhere has not yet been determined.”

“Find out,” the Kaa said grimly.

“Interrogations are proceeding,” Belz answered. “At this stage, the Bureau of Security believes the riot was designed to mask an assassination attempt carried out by Rejects.”

Shocked, the Kaa hissed loudly. His pain returned, and it took him a moment of struggle to master it. “Who has been caught?”

“Most of those involved were shot during the rescue of the sri-Kaa. A lone survivor of the gang claims he was only trying to steal the gold cloth she was wearing.”

“Sacrilege,” the Kaa breathed, unable to conceive of such infamy.

“He will be executed as soon as his interrogation is finished. The Bureau of Security is determined to discover who paid him for the attack.”

“Unstuleid?” the Kaa guessed.

“No, sire,” Belz said without hesitation. “No such connection has been found. The governor appears to be guilty of nothing more than inefficiency and poor preparation for the imperial visit. The crowd turned into a mob from intense public desire to see and touch the sri-Kaa. The assassins seized the chance provided.”

“It is forbidden to touch the imperial person without special permission,” the Kaa said in outrage.

Belz nodded. “Exactly so. But the Imperial Daughter allowed two chunes this privilege, and the crowd forgot everything but the desire to be closer to her. We have reviewed the recordings of the incident. There has been no evidence of tampering with these recordings.”

The Kaa sat there in stony silence, absorbing the information he’d been given. His anger pulsed steadily inside him, stabbing him with pain.

“Continue,” he said at last.

The Commander General’s gaze did not waver. “We have established true martial law over the city, by our imperial forces, supplanting Governor Unstuleid’s attempts to control the population. Strict curfews are now in place. Citizens are not allowed to leave their homes. All shops and businesses have been closed. The spaceport has been closed. The army is now in possession of the shuttle takeoff codes. No cargo can be loaded or unloaded. We are surveying all comings and goings at the docks. All land routes to and from the city have been placed under checkpoints. The harbor itself has been closed, and ships have been seized by authorities. We will continue to search for the traitors until they are found. The city itself will remain locked down until the will of the Imperial Father is made known to us. Are there any further orders at this time, sire?”

“Where is the sri-Kaa?”

Temondahl stirred at this question, as though to remind the Kaa that Israi was en route. The Kaa shot him a glare, and Temondahl said nothing.

Belz was already replying. “The sri-Kaa is flying under military escort. Her transit time has been shortened and she should be arriving at the Imperial Palace in Vir in less than an hour. She is under the full protection of my personal staff, and will be returned to her Imperial Father shortly.”

“Excellent,” the Kaa said in approval. He had always liked Belz, one of the rare highborn Viis who got things done in a very short amount of time. A member of the First House, Belz came from a long line of warriors who had all distinguished themselves in service to the throne. The Kaa leaned forward. “You will of course investigate the guards assigned to her service on this trip.”

“That investigation is already in place. Interrogations are proceeding,” Belz said. “Loss of civilian life is totaled at one hundred twenty-four. I have no accurate figures on the number of injuries. Numerous arrests have been made. Those under arrest will be questioned at length. It would seem the guards were lax in depending on the local security arrangements. However, none of the early evidence points toward a coup on their part.”

“We are relieved to hear it,” the Kaa said. “Well done, Lord Belz.”

The Commander General flicked out his tongue. “I wish to add on the guards’ behalf that they acted swiftly to separate the sri-Kaa from the crowd. They got her out of the area, and contained the riot. While a reprimand is in order, court-martials would cause more harm to morale than is necessary.”

The Kaa said nothing. He knew that Belz always put the welfare of his forces first. He would naturally protect the guards involved. This kind of leniency the Kaa could accept.

Temondahl rubbed his hands together and flicked out his tongue. “Lord Belz has delivered excellent news. As always, the Commander General is most efficient in the performance of his duties. It is a considerable relief to hear that the government of Malraaket has not rebelled. I am sure that the situation can be smoothed over now quickly and without further delay. No doubt Malraaket will wish to tender its apologies on behalf of all involved citizens and—”

The Kaa lifted his hand for silence.

Temondahl’s voice faltered to a halt. He stared at the Kaa, his rill raised inquiringly.

The Kaa sat erect as though carved from wood. His gaze remained on the screened image of the Commander General. The anger went on pulsing inside him, stabbing him. Had he possessed a sword at that moment, he would have sliced off Temondahl’s head.

“This incident will not be smoothed over and it will not be forgiven. This we have said. This will be so.”

Temondahl turned to the Kaa in dismay. “But sire,” he said. “Malraaket and Vir have been on excellent terms for centuries. This is our sister city, the second capital of the homeworld. We—we depend on Malraaket for our—”

“Malraaket must be punished,” the Kaa said implacably. His voice was hard and without mercy.

“Surely the Imperial Father is not going to blame the entire city for the actions of a few—”

“Malraaket is responsible for the actions of its citizens. And its vagrants. Where was the intelligence force? Why were these Rejects not being watched more closely to avoid trouble? Why was security not tightened when word came that the sri-Kaa was to visit?”

The Commander General was nodding on the screen. “I agree with the Kaa’s assessment. No mob should have been allowed to form behind the barricades, much less find a way to break through. No riot should have taken place. The forces stationed in Malraaket are lax and undisciplined. They were not prepared. This could have been avoided with proper precautions.”

Looking annoyed, Temondahl opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking.

The Kaa glanced at Lord Belz. “What should be done to the city, to teach it a lesson it will never forget?”

Temondahl sputtered protests, his staff tapping on the floor in his agitation. “Please, sire! Please, my lord general. This is a matter of diplomacy, not force. Malraaket is too important to—”

Again the Kaa cut him off. “What is your recommendation, Lord Belz?”

The Commander General did not hesitate. “My recommendation is that the city remain under martial law. This is the first step in teaching them that they must not harm the imperial presence.”

The Kaa’s rill lifted behind his head, spreading itself to its full extent. He said, “That is not enough.”

Again Temondahl sputtered, but no one paid any attention to him.

Belz regarded the Kaa. His gaze was clear and direct. “Does the Imperial Father order the destruction of Malraaket?”

“No,” Temondahl said. “By all mercy and justice, no!”

The Kaa ignored him. “No city on our homeworld will be destroyed,” he said coldly.

Temondahl loosed an enormous sigh. “At last, the wisdom of the Kaa is seen.”

The Kaa kept his gaze on Lord Belz’s screened image. “We wish harsh sanctions leveled upon the city. There will be no trade to Malraaket. All imperial franchises will be canceled. It will be a crime to deliver anything other than food and the most basic necessities there. Malraaket’s warehouses are to be confiscated and emptied; the contents now belong to the crown. Malraaket will not be permitted to export its goods or manufacture. Its factories may operate to supply its own needs, and nothing more. The city will exist in isolation under armed barricades. No individual may visit it. No individual may leave it, not even for Festival migrations. This is our imperial will.”

A silence fell over the room, as though no one dared breathe. The Kaa’s words seemed to echo in the study.

The Commander General bowed to him from the screen. “As the Imperial Father commands. I will report our progress tomorrow morning. Belz out.”

The screen went blank, displaying once again the Commander General’s silver and blue seal before fading to black.

The Kaa drew a deep breath, satisfied at last, and only then turned to look at his agitated chancellor.

Temondahl’s eyes held dismay. He opened his mouth, but the Kaa spoke swiftly to cut him off.

“We will not hear protests, chancellor,” he said coldly and formally. “We have made our decision. No more will be said.”

Temondahl drew a deep breath and shuddered visibly. “May the Imperial Father forgive me,” he said in a quiet voice of despair. “Does the Imperial Father realize that he has doomed Malraaket to economic ruin, and all of Viisymel with it?”

“Nonsense,” the Kaa said sharply. “Malraaket is swollen with riches. It has enjoyed protected trade for three centuries. It can live off its own fat until the sanctions are lifted.”

“May I ask the Imperial Father how long such sanctions will be in place?” Temondahl asked softly.

The Kaa glared at him, wanting no censure, no criticism in either tone or implication. “You may not ask,” he said, his voice sharp as a whipcrack. It pleased him to see the chancellor flinch. “We will not relent until we are satisfied that Malraaket has learned its lesson. This audience is ended, and you are dismissed, chancellor.”

There was no more Temondahl could say without risking death. He made a deep obeisance, then gathered his staff of office close to his side and walked to the door with his shoulders slumped and his head low.

Alone at last, the Kaa sat in his chair while a slave brought him a full wine cup. He sipped slowly, his heart cold and stony inside his torso. Despite his illness, he felt like a warrior for the first time in too many years. Sometimes it was good to cast the diplomats aside and slip the tight leash off the army.

He knew, as Belz and Temondahl both knew, that tonight and in the nights to come the military forces would loot Malraaket. It was Viis tradition that whenever the army occupied a city it could take what it wanted.

In the Kaa’s long memory, he could not recall a moment in history when the army had looted a Viis city on the homeworld.

For a second, a chilly sliver of concern touched him. Was he doing the right thing? Or had he been too harsh?

The Kaa held out his cup for more wine. He turned the questions over and over in his mind like polished stones in the hands of a juggler.

Sahmrahd Kaa knew his own reputation. Most of the time he dispensed justice tempered with mercy and leniency. But some actions he did not condone or forgive. He would not forgive Malraaket, no matter what Temondahl said. And although he might have led the chancellor to think his orders regarding the city were temporary, inside his own mind the Kaa’s decision was firm: While he lived, Malraaket would remain cut off from the rest of the empire, a prisoner exiled within its own walls, forever.