Vortex (43 page)

Menynder was silent. Sten's praise also included accusation.

"What I can't figure out," Sten said, "was how you killed the old bastard."

"I didn't," Menynder said. A beat. Then, "
We
didn't."

Sten shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me one way or the other."

"You'd have a murderer as a ruler?"

Sten looked at him. "Name one who isn't."

Menynder thought awhile. Finally, he said, "What if I don't go along with your idea? Will you just let it rest?"

Sten gave him a hard look. "Not this time."

"So I really don't have a choice," Menynder said.

"Maybe not. But it'll work a whole lot better if you
believe
you have a choice."

"Then I'd better say yes, real clottin' fast," Menynder said.

"That's the way I see it," Sten said.

"Menynder again," the Eternal Emperor snapped. "Why do you keep bringing up his name?"

"Because, sir, he's the best being for the job," Sten said.

The Eternal Emperor fish-eyed him. "Is that an 'I told you so,' Sten? Are you saying I screwed up by picking Professor Iskra?"

"It's not my place to judge your decisions, sir."

"Why do I keep hearing reprimands in your voice?" the Emperor said.

"Professor Iskra was the best choice from a poor lot, sir," Mahoney broke in. "Anyone can see that. Which is why, sir, I think Sten's idea now has merit."

"Committees make rotten law," the Emperor said. "They always have. They always will. Before you know it, every committee member has his own agenda, based on pure ego. Consensus becomes a joke. Paid for by power or money or lust or all of the above."

The Emperor drained his drink. His holographic image gestured across millions of light-years for Mahoney and Sten to do the same. "Clot a bunch of rule by committee," he said. But his mood had changed.

Glasses were emptied and refilled. Sten started to speak, but Mahoney tipped him the wink, so he buttoned his lip and let Mahoney grab the ball and run.

"I couldn't agree with you more, sir," Ian said. "Government by committee tends to be bloody useless. But, in this case, sir, might it not be a temporary solution? In fact, might it not eventually lead to a permanent one?''

"Explain," the Emperor ordered.

"The act of putting together a coalition," Mahoney said, "might also have the side benefit of calming things down. Putting a lid on the violence."

"I can track that logic," the Emperor said. "Go ahead."

"So, what if we give the coalition a time frame, sir? Such and such must be accomplished in such and such time. After that, the coalition ceases to exist. Automatically.''

"Some kind of sundown law," the Emperor said.

"Exactly," Mahoney said. "The committee
must
be replaced by a more stable system by the date you mandate."

The Emperor thought. Then he said, "All right. You win. Put it into motion."

"Thank you, sir," Sten said, hiding the relief in his voice. "One other thing…"

The Emperor waved this down. "Yeah. I know. You need some kind of dramatic gesture that says I am going along with this coalition idea."

"Yessir," Sten said.

"How about a royal audience? Get Menynder and the others to Prime. I'll make a fuss over them in court. Bless their holy mission of peace, and all that rot. Send them back heroes. Will that do?"

"It'll do just fine, sir," Sten said.

The Emperor reached for the button that chopped the connection. He paused. "This had
better
work," he snapped. Then his image was gone.

Sten turned to Mahoney. "Ian… I owe you real clottin' big."

Mahoney laughed. "Put it on the tab, lad. Put it on the tab."

"This is Connee George reporting live from Soward Spaceport. The delegation from the Altaic Cluster is due to land at any moment, gentlebeings. And look at that welcoming party waiting for them on the landing pad, Tohm!"

"A big Prime World welcome it is, Connee. My goodness. What an historic moment! I'm sure our viewers are glued to their livies, waiting to get an exclusive KRCAX Prime look at this distinguished delegation. I wonder what's going through our viewers' minds, now, Connee."

"Probably the same as me, Tohm. Which is—wow! What a story!"

"Indeed it is, Connee. Indeed it is… uh… Give us some of your thoughts on this…uh…historic… uh…moment, Connee."

"Well, the official release from the Emperor's press office tells us that on board are four beings bound for destiny. A destiny of peace. But, the release doesn't tell us the whole story, Tohm."

"No, it doesn't… uh… does it?"

"Excuse me, Tohm, while I see if Captain P'wers can put us in a little closer. Can you get in over to the left of the landing pad, Gary?"

"I'll try, Connee. But the traffic is pretty fierce and the tower is giving us a hard way to go."

"Just doing their jobs, I'm sure, Gary. And what a job that is!"

"Right, Connee… Okay… Hold on… Geesh, where'd that lighter come from?"

"Probably our competition, Gary. Ha-ha. Forgive my gloat, Tohm, but I'm sure the viewers at home will understand."

"Absolutely, Connee. They know that's why we're the number one news team on Prime. KRCAX Prime, Connee."

"It sure is, Tohm. Now, look at that view!"

"Sure is impressive. Good work, Captain P'wers!"

"Thanks, Tohm. Clot! Get outta my sky you bas—"

"Watch it, Gary. Kiddies at home. Ha-ha… Now that we've got an exclusive view for our exclusive live coverage, Connee, why don't you finish that rundown."

"Right, Tohm. Well, in the wake of the tragic death of Professor Iskra, the Eternal Emperor has come up with what most authorities agree is a sheer masterstroke of a plan to solve the troubles of the vital Altaic Cluster.

"On board that ship are the beings who will lead their region into a new era of peace. Heading the distinguished delegation is one Sr. Menynder. And his fellow Torks are one thousand percent behind this effort, Tohm."

"As they should be, Connee. Now, tell us about the… uh…others. A pretty distinguished group, themselves, right, Connee?"

"Right, Tohm… The Suzdal are lead by Youtang, one of the most able diplomats in the Altaic Cluster. On the Bogazi side is a being of equal importance, Diatry. Last, but certainly not least, is Sr. Gray—the leader of the all-important Jochi population."

"Great rundown, Connee. Now, tell our viewers what festivities lie ahead for these… uh… distinguished… uh… delegates."

"Well, you can be sure, Tohm, that Prime Worlders are not going to stint on our famous hospitality. First, there's the big welcoming at Soward."

"Excuse me, Connee, but I want to remind the viewers that we'll be covering that live. As soon as the delegates land."

"Go ahead, Tohm."

"Uh… I just did, Connee. Ha-ha."

"Ha-ha. Okay. After that, the Eternal Emperor has scheduled a big public celebration at the palace. Which we shall also be covering."

"Exclusively, Connee. Live and exclusive."

"Right, Tohm. Following the celebration, there's a big royal ball set for tonight. Then—"

"Sorry to interrupt, Connee, but the tower reports the ship is coming in."

"Don't be sorry, Gary, you're just doing your job. Ha-ha. Now, let's see how close we can get. We'll give our viewers a real KRCAX Prime look at things."

"Tower's gonna be mad."

"Don't worry, Captain P'wers. They're all pretty good sports in the tower. Besides, they're just—"

"I know, Connee… doing their jobs."

Menynder peered at the ship's vidscreen as the spaceport rushed up at them. He grudgingly admitted to himself that he was excited.

As excited as a kid, you dumb old Tork. But what harm is there? Let's be honest. You've never been anywhere in your life. And now you're actually going to get to see Prime World. Which has to be every being's dream since… since clottin' forever.

Menynder chuckled to himself and glanced over at the other members of his party. Damned if they weren't as excited as he was. He noted that Youtang's sharp grin had a silly pup tilt to it. And Diatry's beak was wide open, looking at all the marvels of Prime. He couldn't see the Jochi, Gray. But he heard him sniggering.

Knock it off, Menynder. There is serious business ahead. Yeah. Sure. But just for now, can't I be a kid again? I mean, I gonna meet the clottin' Eternal Emperor. At a big clottin' for-real castle. Maybe even shake the Emperor's hand. Damn. Damn. Damn. If Momma could see me now.

Menynder saw a gravlighter darting across the screen. The sign on the side read: KRCAX Prime. Some kind of livie news crew, he assumed. He idly wondered if the lighter captain might be cutting it a little too close. Nah. These were the best of the best, weren't they? A by-God news crew from by-God Prime World. Absolute pros. He was sure.

But—oh, my clot. It was still coming! Hey… What's going on?

"Look out!" Gray screamed. "We're gonna—"

Menynder had an instant to feel the jolt and see the screen go from white to black to collapse. And then he felt the great heavy hand smashing into his back. Heard the crack of his seat giving away.

And then Menynder was ramming forward. The far cabin wall rushing at him.

He heard screamsscreamsscreams. And he thought… Aw, drakh!

"This is KBSNQ, reporting live from Soward Spaceport. For those viewers joining us late—there's been a terrible tragedy here at Prime World's main spaceport.

"A delegation of high-level beings from the Altaic Cluster—arriving here for crucial peace talks with the Eternal Emperor—has collided in midair with a lighter carrying a local news team.

"All beings aboard both craft are believed dead. Imperial investigators are at the site now. The Eternal Emperor has ordered all flags lowered to half-mast for a one-week period of mourning.

"We now return to our regular programming. Be assured we will interrupt if further developments warrant. This is Pyt'r Jynnings reporting live for KBNSQ. You give us twenty-two minutes… and we'll give you the Empire."

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

S
ten sat brooding at the dark skyline of Rurik. The only light showing was the faint, far-off glow of the eternal flame burning in the Square of the Khaqans. All was silent… waiting.

He felt Cind's hand touch his arm. "Menynder was our last hope," he said.

"I know."

"I talked him into going. All he wanted to do was sit by that damned dead pond. In peace."

"I know that, too."

"He was a crooked old dog. But—clot. I liked him."

Her answer was a tighter grip.

"I haven't the faintest idea what to do next," Sten said.

"Maybe… the Emperor will think of something."

"Right."

"Mahoney, then."

"He's as lost as I am. Right now, he's battening down the hatches. Getting ready."

"You think it's going to be that bad?"

"Yeah. Real bad."

"But it wasn't anybody's fault. Except maybe that damned news crew. It was an accident, for clot's sake."

"That's not what
they
think." He pointed out at the silent city. "They think it was a plot. That the Emperor lured Menynder and the others to their deaths."

"That's ridiculous. Why would he?"

"They don't need a reason," Sten said. "They just need someone to blame. We screwed up last. So we're it."

Cind shivered. Sten put an arm around her. "Thanks," he said.

"What for?"

"For being here… with me… That's all."

She snuggled into the arm. "You just try to chase me off," she said. "You just try."

Even in his gloom, Sten was comforted. He leaned back and pulled Cind closer to him.

They sat there until dawn. The sun came up huge and red and angry.

A few minutes later, they heard the first gunfire.

"W' hae snipers 'n rioters 'n looters, oh my," Kilgour said. "Which is noo ver' good. But it's noo ver' bad, either."

"What could be worse?" Sten asked.

"Ah'm feared w' hae thae comin' up, lad."

"Which is?"

"A braw clottin' absence a' army."

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen any Jochi troops about, either. But I thought that was good news. Go ahead. Tell me different. I'm getting used to this depression. I'll probably miss it when it's gone."

"I's th' puir bein's here thae's turned matters topsy-turvy i' y'r wee nog," Alex said. "Bleak's happy. An' joy i' bleak. Afflicted by their clottin' weather, puir things. Eat hate 'n ill will wi' breakfast haggis."

"Thanks for reminding me about stuffed sheep's stomach, Kilgour. Yum yum. I feel much better, now."

"Ah'm rejoicin t't' be lookin't oot frae y', lad."

"Tell me about the army."

"Absence of army, son."

"Yeah, that."

"Well, i' ain't clottin' there, aye? Nary a trooper or trooper's whore t' be glimt i' Rurik. Had m' frick 'n fracks up f'r hours, snoopit an' poopit aboot. Zed th' barracks. Zed th' ossifers' and noncompoops' mess."

"Where the clot did they get off to?''

"Braw question. So Ah query't an em'nent silvery-haired fox."

"General Douw?"

"Aye. He's away, too."

Sten sat up straight in his chair. "Where'd he go?"

"Off wi' his troopies. Maneuvers, his ferret of a press officer said. Annual maneuvers in yon alps." Alex pointed off in the general direction of the mountain range that half-ringed the wide Rurik valley.

"Maneuvers? Oh, bulldrakh. You don't believe it, do you?"

"Noooooo. 'Less th' Jochi troopies—brave lads an' lassies a'—go on maneuvers wi' ammunition all alive, alive-o."

"Drakh," Sten said. "Hip high, old son. 'N risin' fast."

Douw may have been a silvery-haired fool with a pennyweight brain. But perched on a camp stool in his mountain command center, he looked every inch a general. And acted like a very angry one.

"We don't need proof," he snarled across the war table. "Insisting on proof is the last refuge of cowards."

"No Suzdal has ever been called a coward," came a growl. It was Tress, warlord of the Suzdal worlds.