"Yes," said the colonel. "Cream, no sugar. And bring a second cup as
soon as I've finished with the first." Only a part of his attention was
given to the waiter; the rest was focused on the instructions he was
receiving. The instructions kept coming until after the coffee had been
brought. Then the voice said:
"Any questions?"
"No, Sire," said the colonel, replacing his thumb.
"Very well. I'll be expecting your report sometime between eleven and
midnight."
The colonel nodded, brought his hand down from the side of his jaw to
pick up his fork and begin a concerted attack on his lunch.
* * * * *
Hawaii, with its beauty and its perfect climate, had been the obvious
choice for the center of the Terran Empire. For centuries before the
coming of interstellar travel, the islands had been used to a mixture of
tongues and races, and the coming of the Empire had merely added to that
mixture. In the five centuries since Man had begun his explosive spread
to the stars, more "races" had come into being due to the genetic
variations and divisions that occurred as small groups of isolated
colonists were cut off from Earth and from each other. The fact that
interstellar vessels incorporating the contraspace drive were relatively
inexpensive to build, plus the fact that nearly every G-type sun had an
Earth-like planet in Bode's Third Position, had made scattering to the
stars almost an automatic reflex among men.
It had also shattered the cohesion of Mankind that had been laboriously
built up over several millennia. The old U.N. government had gradually
welded together the various nations of Earth under one flag, and for
nearly two centuries it had run Earth like a smoothly operating machine.
But no culture is immortal; even the U.N. must fall, and fall it did.
And, during the chaos that followed, a man named Jerris Danfors had
grabbed the loosened reins of government just as Napoleon had done after
the French Revolution. Unlike Napoleon, however, Jerris had been able to
hold his power without abusing it; he was able to declare himself
Emperor of Earth and make it stick. The people _wanted_ a single central
government, and they were willing to go back to the old idea of Empire
just to get such a government.
Jerris the First was neither a power-mad dictator nor an altruist,
although he had been called both. He was, purely and simply, a strong,
wise, intelligent man--which made him abnormal, no matter how you look
at it. Or supernormal, if you will.
Like Napoleon, he realized that wars of conquest were capable of being
used as a kind of cement to hold the people together in support of their
Emperor. But, again, unlike Napoleon, he found there was no need to sap
the strength of Earth to fight those wars. The population and productive
capacity of Earth was greater than any possible coalition among
extra-Solar planets and vastly greater than any single planet alone.
Thus the Terran Empire had come into being with only a fraction of the
internal disruption which normally follows empire-building.
But Man can flee as well as fight. Every invading army is preceded by
hordes of refugees. Ships left every planet threatened by the Empire,
seeking new, uncharted planets to settle--planets that would be safe
from the Imperial Fleet because they were hidden among a thousand
thousand stars. Mankind spread through the galaxy faster than the Empire
could. Not even Jerris the First could completely consolidate the vast
reaches of the galaxy into a single unit; one lifetime is simply not
enough.
Nor are a dozen.
Slowly, the Empire had changed. Over the next several generations, the
Emperors had yielded more and more of the absolute power that had been
left to them by Jerris. While history never exactly repeats itself, a
parallel could be drawn between the history of the Empire and the
history of England between, say, 1550 and 1950. But, while England's
empire had begun to recede with the coming of democratic government, the
Terran Empire continued to spread--more slowly than at first, but
steadily.
Until, that is, the Empire had touched the edges of the Gehan
Federation.
For the hordes that had fled from the Empire had not forgotten her; they
knew that one day the Empire would find them, that one day they would
have to fight for their independence. So they formed the Federation,
with its capital on the third planet of Gehan's Sun.
It was a federation in name only. Even after several generations, the
refugees had not been able to build up enough population to fight the
Empire. There was only one other way out, as they saw it. They formed a
military dictatorship.
In the Twentieth Century, the German Third Reich, although outnumbered
by its neighbors and enemies, populationwise, had concentrated all its
efforts on building an unbeatable war machine. Japan, also outnumbered,
had done likewise. Between them, they thought they could beat the rest
of Earth. And they came dangerously close to succeeding.
The Gehan Federation had done the same thing, building up fleets and
armies and material stockpiles as though she were already at war.
And, in doing so, her citizens had voluntarily forfeited the very thing
they thought they were fighting for--their freedom.
But they posed a greater threat to the Terran Empire than that Empire
had ever faced before. Any nation so totally prepared for defensive war
may, at any moment, decide that the best defense is a good offense. Any
nation which subjects its people to semislavery for the sake of war must
eventually fight that war or suffer collapse.
The Empire had to change tactics. Instead of steady expansion, she was
forced into a deadly game of interstellar chess, making her plays
carefully, so as not to touch off the explosive temper of her opponent.
It was not a situation to be handled by clumsy fools.
And Lord Senesin, the Prime Portfolio of the Imperial File, the elected
leader of the Empire, the constitutional head of the Imperial
Government, was accused, not only of being a clumsy fool, but of being a
dangerous madman. The planet Bairnvell was an independent, autonomic
ally of the Gehan Federation, and, although not actually a member of the
Federation, was presumably under her protection. For the Imperial Fleet
to go to the aid of rebels trying to overthrow Bairnvell's lawful
government seemed to be the act of an insane mind. The people of the
Empire wouldn't stand for it.
* * * * *
Colonel Lord Barrick Sorban was well aware of the temper of the people
and of the situation that prevailed politically in the Empire--more so,
in fact, than most men. He was also well aware that internal strife of a
very serious nature could so dangerously weaken the Empire that the
Gehan Federation would be able to attack and win.
His job was to cut off that sort of thing before it could gain momentum.
His job was to maintain the Empire; his only superior was the Emperor
himself; his subordinates hand-picked, well-trained, and, like himself,
unobtrusive to the public eye. And not one of those subordinates knew
who the colonel's superior was.
The colonel strolled along the streets of Honolulu with all the
courteous aplomb of a man who was both an officer and a gentleman of
leisure. He dropped in at various respectable clubs and did various
respectable things. He went into other places and did other things not
so respectable. He gave certain orders to certain people and made
certain odd arrangements. When everything had been set up to his
satisfaction, he ate a leisurely dinner, topped it off with two glasses
of Velaskan wine, read the tenth edition of the _Globe_, and strolled
out to the street again, looking every inch the impeccable gentleman.
At ten minutes of eleven, he took a skycab to the fashionable apartment
house where the Honorable Jon Senesin, son of the Prime Portfolio, made
his home. The skycab deposited him on the roof at two minutes of eleven.
The android doorman opened the entrance for him, and he took the drop
chute down to the fifteenth floor. At precisely eleven o'clock, he was
facing the announcer plate on Jon Senesin's door.
[Illustration]
Senesin opened the door. There was a queer look--half jubilant, half
worried--on his face as he said: "Come in, my lord, come in. Care for a
drink?"
"Don't mind if I do, Jon. Brandy, if you have it."
Young Senesin poured the brandy, speaking rapidly as he did. "I've made
an appointment to get those tapes, my lord. I want you to go with me. If
we can get them, we can break this whole fraud wide open. Wide open." He
handed the colonel a crystal goblet half filled with the clear,
red-brown liquid. "Sorry I left so hurriedly this morning, but if that
Heywood character had said another word I'd have broken his nose for
him."
The colonel took the goblet and looked into its depths. "Jon, what do
you expect these tapes to prove?"
The young man's face darkened. He walked across the spacious room,
brandy goblet in hand, and sat down on the wall couch before he spoke.
"Just what I told you, my lord. I expect to prove that my father's mind
has been tampered with--that he is not responsible for the decisions
that have been made in his name--that he is going to lose his position
and his reputation and his career for something that he would never have
done in his right mind--that he has been the duped pawn of someone
else."
The colonel walked over toward the couch and stood over the young man.
"Someone? You keep referring to 'someone.' Ever since you asked me to
help you, you've been mysterious about this someone. Whom do you
suspect?"
Senesin looked up at the colonel for a long moment before he answered.
Then: "I suspect the Emperor himself," he said, half defiantly.
The colonel raised his finely-drawn brows just a fraction of an inch, as
though he hadn't known what the answer would be. "The Emperor? Hannikar
IV? Isn't that a little far-fetched?"
Senesin shook his head vehemently. "Don't you see? Legally, the Emperor
is powerless; the Throne hasn't had any say-so in the Government for
over a century--except to sign state papers and such. But suppose an
Emperor came along who wanted power--power such as the old Emperors used
to have. How would he go about getting it? By controlling the
Government! He could slowly force them to give him back the powers that
the people of the Empire have taken so many centuries to obtain."
The colonel shook his head. "Impossible. Not even the Emperor could
control the votes of the whole File for that purpose. It simply couldn't
be done."
"Not that way; of course not," the young man said irritably. "But there
_is_ a way. It's been used before. Are you up on your history?"
"Reasonably well," the colonel said dryly.
"How did Julius Caesar get dictatorial powers? And, after him, Augustus?
Rome was threatened by war, and then actually engaged in it, and the
patricians were glad to give power to a strong man."
"That was in a state ruled by the few patricians," the colonel pointed
out, "not in a democracy."
"Very well, then; what about the United States, during World War II?
Look at the extraordinary powers granted to the President--first to stop
a depression, then to win a war. What might have happened if he hadn't
died? Would he have gone on to a fifth and a sixth term? How much more
power could he have usurped from the hands of Congress?"
The colonel wondered vaguely what history texts young Senesin had read,
but he didn't ask. "All right," he said, "now tie your examples up with
His Majesty."
"It's very simple. By controlling the mind of the Prime Portfolio, the
Emperor can plunge the Empire into war with the Gehan Federation. Once
that has been done, he can begin to ask for extraordinary powers from
the File. If he has a few key men under his thumb, he can swing the
majority of the File any way he wants to. Don't you see that?"
The colonel said: "It does make a certain amount of sense." He paused,
looking at the young man speculatively. "Tell me, son: why did you pick
me to tell this tale to?"
Senesin's sensitive face betrayed his anxiety. "Because you have been my
father's best and oldest friend. If he's really being made a puppet of,
I should think you'd want to help him. Do you like to see him being
destroyed this way?"
"No," said the colonel honestly. "And if he is actually being controlled
illegally, if he is actually being blamed for things he did not do of
his own free will, I'll do everything in my power to expose the
plot--that I promise you."
Jon Senesin's eyes lit up; his face broke into a smile. "I _knew_ I
could depend on you, my lord! I _knew_ it!"
"Just how do you propose to go about this?" asked Colonel Lord Sorban.
* * * * *
There was fire in young Senesin's eyes now. "I'll turn the whole case
over to the people! I have some evidence, of course; the queer changes
in behavior that Dad has exhibited during the past few years, and such
things as that. The things that made me suspect in the first place. But
that isn't acceptable evidence." He finished his brandy and got up
excitedly to walk over and pour himself another. He glanced at the
colonel's goblet, but the colonel had three-quarters of his own drink
left.
Senesin talked as he poured. "Did you ever hear of a group called the
Federalist Party?"
"Yes," said Colonel Sorban. "They want to federalize the Empire and get
rid of the Imperial Family. Not a very popular group."
"No, but they're right! They're right! Don't you see that? And nobody
pays any attention to them!"
"Calm down, son. What have the Federalists got to do with this?"
"They have sympathizers in the Palace," Senesin explained. "They've been
able to get proof that the Emperor is illegally tampering with the
Government, that he's been brainwashing my father. And they're going to
turn that proof over to me."
"I don't quite follow the reason for that," the colonel lied easily.
"Why don't they use it themselves?"
"They can't. Nobody'd believe them. Everyone would think that the proof
had been faked for political propaganda.
"On the other hand, if _I_ do it, all I can be accused of is having a
personal motive. And if a man wants to get his father out of a jam, most
people will agree that I have a perfect right to do so. Besides, I have
enough influence to get people to listen to me, to give the evidence a
fair hearing. If the newsies got this stuff from the Federalists, they'd
throw it away without looking at it. But they'll listen to me."
"The newsies?" asked the colonel in a perfect imitation of mild
astonishment. "You intend to turn this stuff over to news publishers?"
"Certainly! That's the only way. Put the evidence before the people, and
they'll see what they're up against. I personally don't care whether we
have an Emperor or not, but at least we can force Hannikar IV to
abdicate in favor of Crown Prince Jaimie."
"I see." The colonel took another sip at his brandy and appeared to
think it over. Wisely, young Senesin said nothing.
"How are we to get this evidence?" the colonel asked at last.
"We're to meet a man," Senesin said, with an air of melodrama. "We will
get a call at fifteen of twelve, telling us where to meet him. We have
to be there at midnight."
_Oh, brother_, thought the colonel, _they really picked their man.
They've got him thinking he's hip-deep in a romantic spy story._
_Was I that way at twenty-two? A romantic? I suppose I must have been;
why else would I have joined the Guards? Not for the pay, certainly._
_Hell, I guess I'm still a romantic, in a way. Being a secret agent
isn't all fun and games, but it has its compensations._
Aloud, he said, "Very well, son; I'll go with you. Did you tell them
there'd be someone accompanying you?"
"I told them I'd have a friend along. I told them it would be you. They
said it was all right, that they knew you were a friend of Dad's. They
even knew you've been a little bitter at being retired from the Guards
so young." He looked embarrassed. "Pardon me, my lord."
"That's all right," said the colonel steadily. He managed to give the
appearance of a man who was doing his best not to look bitter.
"You aren't carrying a gun, are you?" Senesin asked suddenly. "They said
we weren't to be armed. They'll probably search us."
"I haven't been in the habit of carrying a gun lately," said the
colonel. "They won't find anything on me."
He finished his brandy while Senesin finished his second one. While the
younger man refilled both goblets, the colonel asked permission to use
the bathroom. He was gone less than three minutes, which he had spent
with thumb and middle finger to larynx and mastoid bone.
At eleven forty-five promptly, the phone chimed. No face appeared on the
screen when young Senesin answered it, but a voice gave an address on
Kalia Road.
Three minutes later, the two men were on the roof, signaling for a
skycab.
* * * * *
At ten o'clock the next morning, a panel slid aside in a wall that had
previously seemed solid. Colonel Lord Barrick Sorban stepped into the
room, thinking as he did so that he really was a romantic. He actually
rather enjoyed the idea of using secret passages and hidden panels to
gain access to the Emperor's private apartments in the Imperial Palace.
He gave a gentle nod to the man in the blue lounging robe who sat in a
big easy-chair just across the room. "Good morning, Sire."
"'Morning, colonel," said His Imperial Majesty, Hannikar IV. "How are
things shaping up?"
The colonel chuckled. "Not a single one of the newsies printed a word of
it, Sire."
These men were close friends, and had been for years, yet they clung to
the formal titles, both from habit and for self-protection. The
accidental use of a first name could mean a dead giveaway at the wrong
time.
The Emperor was a smaller man than Colonel Sorban, but he was far more
impressive. While the colonel seemed rather mild, the Emperor
looked--well, Imperial. He looked just as an Emperor ought to
look--handsome, dark-haired, stern at times and kindly at others. The
square jaw gave an impression of firmness of character, while the
sapphire-blue eyes were penetrating without being harsh or hard.
"What about the Senesin boy?" he asked.
"He's in jail," said the colonel.
His Imperial Majesty raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" It was a question and a
command.
"Not by my orders," said the colonel quickly. "He got a little upset.
He'd taken those tapes and documents around to four editors and had been
thrown out four times. The fifth time--at the _Globe_, as a matter of
fact--he accused the editor of being in your pay. A hassle started, and
the editor called the Honolulu police. Don't worry, Sire; one of my boys
got the tapes and stuff."
"Is it genuine?"
"The evidence? Yes. The Federalists had the goods on you, all right." He
grinned. "As you said, everything but brainwashing."
"I'll take care of it," said the Emperor. "Prince Jaimie's been going
through the family files, and I rather want him to see this batch of
stuff, too. Meantime, get the Senesin boy out of that cell; I want to
see him. He's got guts, if nothing else."
"He has sense, too, Sire; he's just a little too young yet." He almost
added "and romantic," but he stopped himself in time.
"How long will it take to get him out?" His Majesty asked.
"I can have him here in half an hour. The editor of the _Globe_ will
drop the charges. I can put a little pressure on in the right places."
The Emperor nodded. After a moment, he thumbed a button on his chair
arm. "Inform Lord Senesin that he is requested to appear for a Royal
Audience in forty-five minutes," he said firmly.
"Yes, Sire," said a voice from a hidden speaker.