: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.’
‘He’s going to be really cross when he gets reborn. . . ’
I stopped as I caught a very faint change of expression in Haddad’s normal eye. Just the flicker of something that I probably wouldn’t have noticed save that I was watching him so closely.
‘If he comes back,’ I said slowly. ‘You think he won’t be found worthy by the Discerning Hand?’
‘I do not wish to speculate, Highness,’ said Haddad. ‘In any case, we already know that Admiral Elrokhi is on the way here, and so she will conduct the inquiry. It would be wise to sta
y in your quarters until she has arrived, and admit no visitors. Also, do not tell anyone what has occurred. It may appear that Huzand has simply vanished.’
‘But his priests, his Master of Assassins, they must know,’ I said.
‘They will not speak of an unofficial attempt at murder, coupled with an illegal order to block witnessing by the Imperial Mind,’ said Haddad. ‘Besides, they will have already been reassigned—’ ‘What?’ I asked. ‘You mean you know he’s not going to be reborn?’
I queried the Mind on Huzand’s status.
:Prince Huzand <> lost in action against Sad-Eye incursion. Insufficient connection for rebirth permanent honourable death:
‘But that’s not what happened!’ I protested. ‘Everyone knows he survived the Sad-Eye attack!’
‘Some Princes will know he wasn’t killed in the incursion,’ replied Haddad. ‘But they will not inquire further, because they will not want to know that Huzand came here secretly to kill a cadet. Even if someone from his House does suspect some strange occurrence, they will know it is better to leave him dead with honour.’
‘I didn’t know the Imperial Mind could lie to us,’ I said sombrely.
‘There are levels of information veracity, Highness,’ Haddad replied. ‘In a sense, Huzand was killed by the Sad-Eye intervention. I doubt he would have determined on this crazed course of action if you had not distinguished yourself and been noted by higher authority.’
‘The Sad-Eye incursion . . . that reminds me. How did you come to warn me a minute or more before the base alarms?’
‘I have various sources here and in the wider system, Highness,’ replied Haddad. ‘As should a good Master of Assassins.’
‘And how did they get here, anyway, from the wormhole, past the guard there?’
‘That is under investigation, Highness,’ replied Haddad gravely.
He wasn’t telling me everything, I knew, but I also knew that I wouldn’t get anything else out of him. At least on that subject.
‘What was Huzand on about with that stuff about me replacing Prince Atalin?’
Haddad became very still.
‘Have you looked at Prince Atalin’s visual reference from the Imperial Mind?’
I shook my head and called it up.
Prince Atalin was three years older than I, not that I could tell from the image. She had brown skin like mine; a slightly hooked nose like mine; almost-black hair like mine; almond-shaped eyes with dark-brown, almost-black irises like mine. . .
‘We look very similar,’ I said slowly. ‘She could be my sister, if that were possible. . . ’
Princes don’t have siblings. Or parents. At least not ones they know about. So it was very weird for me to be looking at someone who really could be a physical relation, sharing the same genetic heritage.
I felt decidedly strange. If she was my sister . . . what did that mean? How would we behave if we were to meet again?
‘It is not impossible, Highness,’ said Haddad. ‘It could occur if your birth parents chose erasure when Atalin was selected, resettled elsewhere, and had you.’
‘But what are the chances of that?’ I asked. ‘I mean, surely they would have been resettled somewhere that wasn’t on a candidate-seeking list for decades?’
‘They could have moved again, through choice or circumstance,’ said Haddad. ‘Though you are correct that it is highly improbable.’
‘But I still don’t understand Huzand,’ I said. ‘I mean, sure, I look like Atalin. Maybe she even is my sister, not that it means anything. But I couldn’t replace her! I wouldn’t even know how to start to act like “most successful cadet ever” Atalin. And the Imperial Mind would know, for a start.’
‘Indeed, Highness,’ said Haddad. ‘I fear Prince Huzand was suffering some form of delusion and found your physical similarity to a favoured cadet as an unfortunate focus.’
‘Yeah, unfortunate all around,’ I snapped. ‘I guess I’m going to be a big fat target for all those Jerrazis out there. Huzand must have recruited ninety per cent of the Academy by himself.’
‘If they find out what happened,’ Haddad reminded me.
:Priests of the Aspect of the Emperor’s Discerning Hand <> present for collection of deceased Prince:
One of my apprentice assassins held up the viewing screen. There were four priests outside the door, dressed in their normal day-to-day robes, so it was impossible to tell what Aspect they belonged to. They could even be assassins. Maybe Huzand’s Master had stayed loyal to him after death . . . if that was possible. As per usual, I didn’t know.
‘Retire to your chambers, Highness,’ said Haddad. ‘I will deal with the Discerning Hand.’
‘Are you sure that’s who they are?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ said Haddad. ‘No one would dare use their identifier in mindspeech with you witnessing for the Mind. But it is best you retire for now.’
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What do they do with the body?’
On the screen, I saw one of the priests take out something that resembled a small energy saw, and the one next to him was unfolding a Bitek bag of the kind used to contain and preserve organics.
‘I’ll retire,’ I said hastily.
‘Do you still wish your feast to go on as ordered, Highness?’ asked Haddad.
‘No . . . uh . . . I mean, yes,’ I said, just before I slipped through the doorway.
After all, it might be my last opportunity to enjoy myself for a very long time. Though Haddad seemed confident, I couldn’t believe that I really would go unpunished for killing the Commandant of the Academy. Even if he’d come to kill me, I was sure that I was going to cop something from someone higher up, whether it was official punishment or private retribution.
8
BUT I DECIDED not to worry about the things I couldn’t change, so the next few days were among the most enjoyable I had ever experienced. I finally got to sample all the delights of my private apartment and household, for the first time feeling like I actually was a Prince of the Empire. Particularly as I had adopted the ancient motto ‘Party like there is no tomorrow’ and had tried to indulge in every possible stimulant, relaxant, intoxicant, hallucinogen, and sexual experience that was available, permissible, and that could be recovered from in time without major intervention from my priests or the temple.
This brief but very pleasurable interlude came to an end with a summons to the Commandant’s office to report to Vice Admiral Elrokhi. That was when I really did feel like there might not be a tomorrow. I had been detoxed by my own priests with Bitek nanocleansing and was entirely sober, but I felt washed out and uncomfortable in my own skin. Part of that was probably nervousness about what was going to happen rather than a classic hangover, which Uncle Hormidh assured me was not possible after the recovery procedure I’d been through.
I expected trouble, but when I fronted up in my full ceremonial uniform, complete with the stupid one-and-a-half-metre-high fur busby, I had a pleasant surprise. Vice Admiral Elrokhi V was nothing like Huzand. She welcomed me as one Prince to another, not from on high, and congratulated me on my defence against the Sad-Eye attack. Then she placed the Hero of the Empire order over my head herself and pinned a Scarlet wound badge to my chest. Apparently you don’t get a wound badge for being killed, but since my arm had been cut off before my death, I did qualify for the lowest level. Now that I knew how much it had felt strange and horrible, if not exactly painful, I didn’t want to qualify for the higher levels, like the Sable wound badge, mark of more than fifty individual wounds.
Since we were alone, not counting the various priests about the place, when I’d finished stepping back and saluting and doing all the things I had now been trained to do, I stammered out something about an inquiry.
‘Inquiry?’ asked Elrokhi. ‘Into what?’
‘Uh, the events after the incursion,’ I said. ‘Concerning the former Comm—’
‘Oh, that inquiry! It’s been done, all has been signed off,
’ said Elrokhi. ‘I don’t think there’s any point revisiting that, do you?’
‘Not if you say so, sir,’ I replied.
‘I do say so. Now, why don’t we take tea while we wait for the new Commandant, Captain Kothrez, to finish up some of her administrative . . . ah . . . reforms. I’d like you to meet her before you return to duty.’
I called up the new Commandant’s details as Prince Elrokhi poured the tea, which was brought in by a programmed servant of some nonhuman species, whose broad back doubled as a tea tray while its multijointed arms laid out the crockery. The tea service, I noticed, was translucent china decorated with pale-blue flowers. It was very old and beautiful, and possibly even from ancient Earth, or was some ultra-high-quality Bitek reproduction. As I fumbled my cup slightly and saw Elrokhi’s brow tighten, I realised that dropping one of those cups would be a great sin in the Vice Admiral’s eyes, even though killing the former Commandant hardly rated her raising an eyebrow.
I held on to my cup very carefully as I went through the information from the Imperial Mind on Prince Kothrez XXII. Like Huzand, she held the rank of captain in the Imperial Navy, but she had clearly seen much more combat service, having been awarded the Imperial Star of Valour; Hero of the Empire First, Second, and Third Classes; and a Conspicuous Gallantry Medal. And she was a Grand Adept of War (Sensors) and a whole lot more. But the most relevant part as far as I was concerned was her House affiliation.
Kothrez belonged to House Tivand. Not Jerrazis. I hoped that could only be good for me.
When Kothrez showed up, I was instantly impressed. She definitely had more immediate presence than most of the officers I’d met, something greater than the natural arrogance of a Prince. Some of this was probably due to the tattoos on her shaved head, marking service in Imperial Survey, each tattoo commemorating a new and viable wormhole discovered by her, something few Princes could boast of. Otherwise she looked unremarkable, and unlike Huzand (who had had far less to boast about), she wasn’t wearing powered versions of her medals, just the cloth ribbons in the smallest size issued, on a plain service shipsuit with the coiled gold epaulettes of her rank. Also unlike Huzand, the only visible weapons she wore were twin energy lances mounted under her wrists, excellent modern personal armament, instead of some affected antique awarded for duelling.