Imperial Consort

By P A Moore

Cinderellas live happily ever after. Unless they have a powerful courtiers out to get them. Not that it's hard to frame Casio Westfall, the Emperor's consort, for an attempted assassination. In fact, it's fun. She's a perfect mark. Who's going to complain? She's of a humble and scandalous background and has no friends ou

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Nov 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781685154332

Book preview

Chapter 1

My brothers figure it was time to travel…

W

hen I first started feeling the watcher, I asked my Pappa about it. He took the question seriously and lectured my eight-year-old self about ancient beliefs in Chinese divination. Then he talked of guardian spirits and the New Age philosophy prevalent in the early information epoch.

When he started talking of doppelgangers, I begged off, taken aback by this unusual pursuit of a childhood question.

A week later he took me to spend a day at a nice place where I played lots of fun games. It wasn’t until a few years later that I realized that they were testing for congenital brain disease or personality disorders. They must have given me a clean bill of health because I never went back and Father never mentioned the subject again.

Neither did I, when, belatedly, my child's radar picked up on my parents’ concern with the topic.

All I had wanted to know was what the watcher was. Lacking guidance, I finally nicknamed the sensation, Bob, an acronym for back-of-brain.

Well, I thought it a clever name at age eight!

One could have assumed that Bob was an artifact of my Memcon wafer, providing information as I needed it, except that I didn’t get the first wafer until two years after Bob first made its presence known, by which time I could differentiate the two. The Memcon was, of course, very specific as to the information it provided. And, relatively, dependable.

Bob, on the other hand, would sometimes disappear for weeks, particularly when I was going through busy times.

But, like the Memcon wafer, if I concentrated on it, I could feel Bob lurking, waiting to provide insights whenever I slowed down and focus on it. And sometimes, not often, Bob would pop up, unsolicited, almost like a second brain. One that was unemotional but…compassionate…if that makes any sense. Separate, but interested. The watcher. And analyzer.

One day, soon after my twentieth birthday, Bob suddenly took ascendance in a stronger fashion than was usual to provide a sardonic, historical view of familial relationships. A non-picture popped up of the same basic conversation to which I was being subjected; only it was being reenacted trillions of times in trillions of families in thousands of cultures down through the last thirty thousand years of recorded history. With only superficial variations.

Anyway, most of Bob's versions of this particular human condition involved nagging parents, not nagging siblings.

Casie! Hello! Anyone there? I refocused on my brother. He had bent over to look in my eyes.

I pushed Bob back and muttered, "I’m just trying to think through all of this yelling!

Basim straightened and sighed. We’re not yelling. We’re discussing.

It's more a matter of intensity rather than volume. I returned resentfully.

Casie! Most girls would give an arm to visit Stracus! Your aunt sounded like she’d really like to have you. What's the problem? That was my brother, Gil. Oldest by about 20 minutes over brother, Basim. Talking in the firm, rational manner that always made anyone else's ideas seem nonsensical.

I’d been standing firm against familial and societal expectations for three years. But that day the family had decided to gang up on me and they’d brought out their heavy weaponry—bribery. They all knew that I’d been dying to get off planet ever since I was old enough to understand that people could.

Could feel myself weakening, but surrendering to sibling pressure would provide my brothers a level of one-upmanship. And a strong lever for pushing their agenda in the future.

I returned, You’ve been telling me about how awful Aunt Malia is and now you’re making me visit her!

My parents, too, who had disappeared during an anniversary vacation five years before, talked about how beautiful, driven, and ruthless she was.

Though she hadn’t seemed bad in the holo invitation that was sent. Beautiful, yes. Though in her fifties, she had only looked a few years older than me. But she had had a warm smile and relaxed manner.

Maybe she’d mellowed with age…

All she’ll do is drag me from one party to another. And I’m not a girl anymore, Bubba. Gil hated being called Bubba, my childhood name for him.

Basim started in again. Parties! Those aren’t parties! Stracus is the Imperial Planet, for Dust's sake! They’re major social events! Some of the most powerful people in the Empire will be at them. If I thought I’d pass, I’d dress up in an evening gown and go myself!

I replied, Go ahead! You’re cuter than me anyway! And, he hated that. I think he’d internalized himself as some type of heavily muscled, broken-nosed, bamtree star. The fact that he had the sort of slim, aristocratic looks that turned women into stalkers was something to which he’d never adjusted. But just because you’re a money-grubbing power-monger, doesn’t mean I am.

And he was one, too. The fact that he kept extolling integrity and character to me was just an external verbalization of his internal monitoring system.

As I’d told him many times.

He rolled his eyes at Ginga, Gil's wife, in a manner that only brothers do well.

Ginga smiled at him, walked over, and set a cup of mocha down in front of me. With amusement, she said, I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn, Casie. Give it up! When they’re tag teaming, you know they’re impossible to beat. Even alone they can keep going for days. She took a bite of a cruller and added meditatively. Weeks. Then, sending a slit-eyed look at Gil, added, Years!

He grinned at her. He had pursued Ginga since primary school. She claimed that, after ten years, she finally didn’t have any fight left in her; so they’d married young and finished at the university together.

But she wasn’t nearly as defenseless as she acted. In fact, Ginga was the only person that I knew, including Basim, who could stand against Gil. Which was probably why Basim was such a dynamo in business—taking out his failure at sibling competition against Gil on unfortunate rivals.

Ginga looked at me. If I were you, I’d go to Stracus just to get away long enough for them to find someone else to focus upon. Or… She patted her growing belly. …until the twins come. That should give them something else to do. Then she frowned. Belay that! Go now so you can be back in time to give me a hand. Probably remembering how Basim shared a packet of gravy—Gravy!—a few days before with my youngest nephew, two year old Bort, in lieu of a real supper. They’d decided it was just like soup.

I made a grumbling noise and sipped on the mocha.

Ginga smiled and pushed a strand of my wayward hair behind my ear. Casie. It will be fun! Go enjoy yourself among the gentry there. I promise, we’ll see about enrolling you at Quentin Technical when you return. As Gil opened his mouth, she pointed at him. If Casie wants to go to tech school, she's going to a tech school!

I could hear the not-so-hidden agenda. Provided, of course, that Casie was so ungrateful and unnatural a sibling—even after being sent on an expensive trip to the Imperial planet—as to still insist on studying engineering instead of going into business, administration, or one of the other respectable, soft sciences.

And, therein lay the rub. Gratitude. Though they had done a very good job of hiding it, I had always suspected that one of the reasons Gil and Ginga married at 21 years old was so they could gain custody of me after my parents disappeared.

I was grateful. My paternal grandparents were very wrapped up in their own interests and my maternal ones had died in a freak ship explosion while traveling to another planet. Whereas Ginga had turned out to be not only a great Mom, but my best friend.

But, gratitude notwithstanding, agenda or no agenda, I was going to go into a tech college! My parents may have been busy and distant, but they were also well enough off to leave each of us kids healthy trust funds. And I’d soon be old enough to spend mine how I wanted! And, despite his urging, that wouldn’t be in one of Basim's money-making schemes!

Why don’t I visit her next year for a break? Then I wouldn’t have to miss the first term. and could establish that EM engineering was my field.

They exchanged looks. Gil said, "We just want you to see what it's like out in society for a time, before you make your decision."

I thought I already had!

Ginga was right. As usual. I shouldn’t have bothered arguing. Two months later, I found myself on Stracus, the Imperial Planet. On the palace grounds of the Imperial Palace, Shrandala, if you can believe that! One of the fifty thousand guests in the public sector of the Emperor's thirtieth birthday party.

Attending was an enormous social coup. I hadn’t realized before how high up in the pecking order Aunt Malia sat.

No. Not pecking order. In the case of Stracus society, it was a food pyramid and Aunt Malia fit right in with the other secondary carnivores.

Neither as big nor voracious enough to wangle us an invitation to the Emperor's smaller, private party, of course; but many other carnivores had to be beaten out just to get us into the ‘public’ party. ‘Public’ being very much a misnomer. Most people in the public aren’t billionaires and world-shakers on their own planets.

She’d beaten out my protests, too. I’d prepared a list of things that I wanted to see while on Stracus and my visit was only for a month. As is, we spent the first two weeks of it getting ready for the party.

And that was despite the fact that she’d already picked out an evening gown, which cost as much as a semester of school, a glistening, dark blue. But that left fittings, shoes, accessories and a full dress rehearsal two days before the event, including makeup and hair. The stylist who did the hair and makeup was a sadist, as well as a rabid perfectionist, who worked for half a day getting everything the way he wanted it. Then we spent two hours having holos done of the complete-me. I didn’t have a voice in any of it.

And all that effort went toward making me look like just one more, painfully elegant person. The term ‘painfully’ being used precisely, in this case, both in terms of physical and emotional impact. Stracus styles had no resemblance to those on my home planet, Palantry. The gown was cut dangerously low on top and the undergarments made everything hugely uncomfortable from that point down, for they seemed to be optimized for their ability to immobilize and itch.

What's more, the party wasn’t a party in terms of fun. It was all about posing, trophy spouses, fashion, jewelry, and power networking.

As if I could network among all those high lords! I suspect I was one of the youngest, if not THE youngest person there, and I felt like a child. Or a freak. An ungrateful freak. It was, after all, a huge honor to go. I know it was, because that is what so many people said.

But how can it be an honor when no one there knows you? I, evidently, was the honoree. Where were the honorers?

And it wasn’t an honor such as one derives by seeing great entertainers. The music coming from the various little orchestras sounded like the same as that played over the intercoms in offices. No one danced to it.

Nor did Aunt Malia improve the enjoyment quota by telling me to smile, keep quiet, and stay close.

And I did for almost the entire evening. Another hour and the party would end. I’d only turned away from her for a moment to get a plate of food from one of the incredible buffets—that's more like it!—but when I turned back, she was gone. I stayed in the same spot for a half-hour, picking at the food and waiting for her to return. Then, a lecherous-looking man, who’d been eying me for most of that period, started toward me. I began searching for her in the opposite direction.

The search continued for another half-hour with me making larger and larger circles away from the buffet. Then orange the same shade as her dress flashed behind some bushes in the formal gardens. I pursued.

Two turns and the brightly lit path became dim and the music became faint. I came to a stop, thinking of turning back. A flash of orange appeared again, far down a stone path.

The dim, general lighting ceased altogether after a few more curves and was replaced by tiny lights, which edged the path but were too faint to illuminate more than a few feet away. I hesitated again, but, then heard a woman's voice—I could have sworn it was Aunt Malia!—and followed it, planning on only going a little further.

At some point on the dimly lit path, I passed from the highly sculpted, formal garden that encircled the public party. A cloud parted. The light of Stracus's rings and one its moons revealed that I was in an area of enormous trees and barely controlled undergrowth.

Just a few dozen steps before, I had gone through an opening in a hedge of some tall, broad-leafed vegetation. It had met over my head and the path had changed from stone to earth. I suspected that that was when I passed into the new biome.

Upon seeing the nature of it, I about-faced. But the path's lights didn’t lead back to the hedge. In fact, they quickly seemed to lead away.

The gut-sinking feeling of being lost filled me.

Lost is not a good thing in the Imperial Gardens. They extended for nearly a thousand square kilometers in a rough half-circle behind the Shrandala Palace. The hundred biomes represented in the Gardens contained plants and animals in their natural environments, which meant that some of the fauna had long teeth. Or long stingers. Or big pinchers. Much advertised, security features of the Gardens.

Still, backtracking on the path should return me to the public party. It didn’t branch.

But after walking much further than the hedge could have possibly been, I stopped to reconsider.

Where was the path to the other biome? Bob popped up to indicate that a methodical approach might be the best way to find it.

I continued in the same direction—counting a fifty more steps. I should have reached the hedge several times over. I stopped, broke a twig, and placed it in the path.

Then I turned about and walked back in the original direction, at least a hundred steps further than the last time. At this point, a twig was sacrificed from a low hanging bush and put on the path.

Turn around. One more try. This time a full hundred and fifty steps in the opposite direction while I looked carefully for side paths. I passed the first twig and, after the hundred and fifty steps, finally stopped and sacrificed some more vegetation.

I turned again. The twig that I had laid down before at the end of the grid was reached without seeing a turn-off. But I did finally hear something of interest. An elusive sound of music and voices. It would almost have to be coming from the palace. Hopefully not the private part of the birthday party.

I stood there for a long minute in indecision.

There was no way I could have missed the hedge. A different path had lit when I entered the area.

It was dark. A balmy wind blew. No sound save that of the music reached through the big trees.

Never had I been so alone in my life. My home planet's temperature was more variable than earth normal. Quite hot in the the area where I grew up in the day but sub-zero at night when not in one of the temperature controlled Imperial biomes. Running around alone outside in temperatures that dropped below freezing every night was discouraged. So I’d never been outside of a biome at night.

The temperature here was balmy. But, to be not only alone, but in the dark in a strange place, outside, was…off-putting.

Suddenly an animal, up in a tree behind me, made a loud sound something between a gasp and a mournful tweet.

Moving rather faster than a steady walk, I started toward the faint sound of music. As I scurried, I considered options.

I could start yelling and hope for someone to retrieve me, keeping in mind that they would probably follow the standard procedure for an out-of-bounds guest as described in the video that I had had to validate the previous day prior to being authorized for entry onto Imperial grounds. The procedure consisted of stunning the guest, putting them in restraints, and taking them in for questioning.

Or, I could stay where I was until morning and take a chance of sneaking out. Right. In an evening gown.

Or I could try to sneak into the private party and thence back to the public sector without anyone noticing me.

Probably still get stunned and restrained and arrested but there was a chance that I’d make it!

While debating the pros and cons of crashing the inner circle of the most secure and important social event of the decade in the entire Empire—and trying to ignore the continuing chattering of nearby animals, I followed the path until its lights abruptly ended beneath a tree at a clearing's edge.

At the far edge of the clearing glimmered a lake. The music had become distinct and sounded like it came from the other side of the water.

As I hesitated, searching the dark for some hint of path around the water, a deep, male voice said, Lini?

Chapter 2

And I meet… people.

I

let out a startled exclamation and turned toward the sound. A large figure stepped away from the bole of the drooping tree beneath which I stood. I squinted through the dense shadow but couldn’t make out any detail.

Relief at finding a person in that wilderness mixed with embarrassment. No. I’m… Just in time, I realized that it might be best not to give my name. …from the party over there. I turned and pointed, though I doubted he could see the gesture in the darkness. But I got separated from my…

Sharply, he asked, You came from the Red Court?

Come to think of it the area had sported a red motif. Yes. I think so.

Still sharper, he asked, How the dust did you get in here?

My temper, already frayed with anger and frustration over Aunt Malia's desertion and my predicament, took a turn for the worse. If I knew that, I’d return! When he didn’t reply, I continued, Look! I heard a noise and followed it, hoping it was… I quickly edited ‘my aunt’ and replaced it with, …the person I came with and then I found myself here. I’m sorry if I’m invading some private something, but I tried to get back and couldn’t! If you could…

At that he ordered, Get under the tree!

What?

Peremptorily, he said, Now! Hurry! He underscored the command by stepping toward me, grabbing my arm, and forcing obedience.

Let me go! Grog it! What do you think you’re doing? For a moment I wondered if he meant to attack me. Judging by the strength of the grip on my arm and the fact that he was a head taller than me, I’d have a fight on my hands if he did.

But, as he hustled me onwards, he said in a hard, hushed voice, Shut up! The security perimeter's been violated. If you got through, it was probably on the heels of an assassin.

Any number of fanatic, religious, political, or just plain jealous groups throughout the galaxy would love to kill the Emperor. And the security measures for getting into Shrandala reflected that danger.

Dropping my voice to a whisper in emulation of his own, I squeaked, An assassin! We have to notify someone!

Shortly, he replied, You just have. He continued to dig his fingers into my arm and hustle me before him.

I tried to look over my shoulder at him while saying, I meant the Guard! Will you let go of my…umph!

This last was a result of tumbling over an object in the unlit path. The man released my arm then—in the process of likewise tripping, then landing on me. Succinctly, he said, Dust!

He lifted himself off of me, and I floundered around until my long, full dress was hauled up enough to allow me to gain my knees. The object that had fouled our progress was the leg of one of the Imperial Guards.

The light of the planet's rings shown down through a small break in the branches above; glimmered off of the purple and silver helmet of the woman lying on the ground; lit the man's face as he bent over her, checking for a pulse; then flashed in his eyes as he looked up at me. He raised a finger to his lips.

I had little doubt that the woman was dead. A whiff of burnt flesh and plastic carried on the breeze. Her body lay in a strangely grotesque, abandoned posture.

I nodded my head shakily as he rose and took my arm again. We hurried a few steps further along the path before he dragged me off to one side then pulled me through some high bushes that snatched at the dress.

A dozen more meters and he hauled me down into a crouch behind the trunk of one of the giant trees. The area was so dark that I could barely see him. He whispered, They may be searching with night sensors. Stay here and keep quiet! You should be safe.

No!

I could just see his movement to rise. But at my answer, he settled back down and whispered in a hard voice, What do you mean, ‘No’?

I’m not going to stay here! Then in a flat, little voice, I asked, You’re the Emperor, aren’t you?

It seemed too surreal to believe; but I’d seen the maroon uniform with the silver star-burst splayed down its left shoulder earlier from afar—when he’d waved from a balcony to the crowd in the public portion of the sortie. Then too, there was his face—dark eyes, squarish, sharp-planed, and hawk-nosed. I’d seen it thousands of times on paper, in holographs, in books—though those couldn’t compare with seeing it at first hand, and at night.

And his body-shape. So big boned that I’d always assumed he was only average in height until that day, when I saw him standing next to others.

He replied derisively, Of course, I’m the Emperor! And…

I interrupted, And there really are assassins after you?

Yes. Which…

I interrupted again, Then I should lead them away from you. I’d been the fastest female runner in my school. Given a slight lead, I’d have a chance.

He squatted there, not replying. I continued, Give me five minutes! I should be able to reach the lights and some people by then and sound an alarm. I started up.

He grabbed my arm again and hauled me back with enough force the land me on my bottom. A branch cracked beneath me. His deep voice, which had sounded familiar even from the first, snapped, Are you insane!

I said, Ssh! They’ll hear you.

He started to say loudly, Hear… stopped, took a deep breath, and replied in a quiet, biting tone, Gentlehome, I’m not used to being interrupted nor to having my orders ignored. You will stay here…

But…

"You will stay here and…"

I knew my duty even if he didn’t. Being charged with treason for disobeying him couldn’t compare with being guilty of standing by and letting him die when I might have prevented it. Father once said that courage was acting for the common good irrespective of personal welfare.

I started up and away before he could say more.

But after bolting only a few meters, something moved through the brush in front of me. The Emperor, who’d bolted after me, heard it too. We skidded to a stop and whirled as one toward the opposite direction. Another sound came from there.

I looked around, then up at the same time as him to the large branch above us.

Then we both lowered our eyes to exchange glances. My eyes had adjusted to the dark. And, that far from the base of the drooping tree, enough light filtered through to allow me to see him.

Yep. It was the Emperor.

Silently, he clasped my waist and raised me until I could reach the branch above.

I got an arm hooked over it and struggled not to make any noise as I levered myself up. My skirts hampered me. The bark bit into my arm. I floundered, got a grip on a higher branch and pulled. Then, he was above me. One-handed, he yanked me up the rest of the way and held me there while I got my feet planted on the branch. Cumbersome or not, I thanked the fate for garbing me in the long, dark blue dress. It blended with the shadows. I just wish it covered from the bosom up, too; but my shoulders and arms gleamed white and I feared that they would be seen. I gathered a piece of the long folds close to act as a shawl.

The branch was thick and made of some exceptionally hard type of wood for it had barely sagged beneath our weight. Leaves rustled in the breeze, covering what little noise we had made.

Which was just as well, for as I got settled, a tiny blink of light flickered near the tree trunk. It looked like a machine indicator light. So much for staying at the base of the tree for safety! I touched him on the arm and pointed. He looked.

He’d been peering intently in the opposite direction, that from which the first sound came. I glanced there. Another light. And both lights were coming closer.

It was impossible to make out the forms of the individuals carrying the devices. They looked like part of the forest. Even when they reached a point directly below us, I couldn’t see them.

But we could see the weapons that each carried. Subsonic blasters, silent to the human ear and equipped with both night scopes and AURA detectors. If the assassins were from a group of fanatics, it was an exceptionally well-armed one. And well informed. Even with my heart hammering in my throat, I wondered how they’d gotten the Emperor's stats for the AURA device. For that matter, how had they gotten an AURA device?

It was a new invention that was much in the news lately, but restricted for use to Imperial forces currently.

One of the assassins, a man, murmured to the other in a voice that I could barely hear over the rustling leaves, Any sign?

The other, a woman with a heavy accent and deep, harsh voice, replied in a low growl, No. But the detector led here. This fits. He was to meet the Lady in the clearing.

The man returned, I went through there. Nobody. I heard something from this direction though. A branch breaking. Got an aura reading for a moment, then nothing.

The woman looked at her wrist where a light momentarily showed. Tersely, she said, Two minutes left. We have to do this now or abort! Scan the bushes again.

They started to do so. Suspecting what was coming, I gingerly hauled my skirts so they were in front of me, then bit into the folds to hold them. With them thus secured, I took a two handed grip on the branch overhead so that I could swing out. The Emperor glanced at me and gathered himself as well. As the ones below came to the end of their circuit, the woman said, Same as before. His stats zero out here.

Hers, too.

Where the devil are they?

The man said, The ground is riddled with tunnels. There might be an underground entrance… His voice trailed off at the end. You could feel the thought hit both of them at once. They started to look up. The Emperor and I jumped.

As fate would have it, the man was under me. He ducked. I hit the back of his shoulders with both feet and then landed on him as he fell to his hands and knees. His weapon flew into a patch of vegetation.

I wasn’t a lightweight. It was amazing that he wasn’t knocked out. My wide skirt billowed down over him, and I found myself sitting on his shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his head and tucked my feet under his armpits, as, cursing, he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled a few steps and started trying to push my legs up and away. I suddenly remembered Rule One from my self-defense training and started yelling my head off.

With a hand like a steel claw, he managed to grasp one of my ankles and yanked it away from himself. Slipping, fumbling, and still screaming, I dropped my hands to grip my dress where it passed under his chin. Then pulled—hard.

Blinded and now choked by my skirt, he started turning circles and crashing into bushes. He tried to pull my hands free, but his efforts were thwarted by the thick folds of the dress. He finally got my second leg loose. Both swung out behind as he turned, desperately trying to make me release the choke hold while I, more desperately, held on.

The struggle seemed to stretch into an eternity, though only a few seconds must have passed between jumping from the tree and the moment that lights blazed on all around us. I caught a crazy glimpse of the Emperor and the female assassin. She was just galloping around the trunk of the tree, favoring one leg. The black pieren suit, which provided such good camouflage in the dark, worked nearly as well in the bright light, reflecting the green vegetation. For a moment, the Emperor looked like he would follow her but instead he turned back.

Then I lost sight of him as my mount lurched around in another circle, making frustrated gargling noises. The next I saw of the Emperor, he was leaning back to deliver a blow. It hit the assassin's jaw under the chin strap with a force that even I felt, and the man dropped like a rock—on top of me. Just in time, for my hands were losing their grip.

As I struggled to pull out from under him, the Emperor stood with his hands on his hips looking down. There was a cut on his temple from which a trickle of blood ran, but a trace of a smile lifted his face. His eyes pointed toward the red, lacy undergarments that I wore beneath the dress. Fury at this response to my predicament won out over awe, and I irately said, A hand would be appreciated!

His eyes rose to meet mine, a bemused expression in them. Then he leisurely stepped forward to pull the assassin up by the front of his suit. I struggled out from under and managed to drop my skirts back over my legs just as a half dozen people crashed through the bushes towards us.

For a moment I thought they might be more assassins, and with a squeal, I jumped in front of the Emperor and turned to face…Imperial Guards. One of them shouted something and reached out. The Emperor passed one of his arms around me and pulled me away as he waved the man off while saying to me, Don’t worry. It's the Guard.

I looked up. His face, inches away, held a quizzical expression. Blushing, I explained lamely. Oh, I thought they were going to…uh…

He finished, You were trying to protect me—again?

Actually I had been, but to admit as much would have sounded melodramatic. While searching for words, I became aware of the Emperor's arm still around me and pushed away. Tried to. Unsuccessfully.

The man who’d grabbed at me said tensely, She may be one of them, Sire!

As I sputtered indignantly, the Emperor released me completely and replied, I doubt that. She saved me. Which was really a rather generous thing for him to say. My jumping on the man now lying at our feet had been little more than a diversion until the Emperor was free to deal with him, himself.

Two of the Guards had already secured the still unconscious assassin with hampers and were starting to search him. One jumped up suddenly and yelled, Explosives! Get back! They’re remote primed!

Before I could do more than goggle, a hard band encircled me, and I found myself tucked under the Emperor's arm as he raced back to and around the tree trunk where we’d previously crouched. The Guards also dispersed at a run. And just in time.

A deafening explosion shook even the mighty trunk of the tree against which we stood. Branches whipped overhead and to the side and were stripped of their leaves. When the terrible sound died, I realized I was sandwiched between the hard trunk of the tree and the equally hard body of the Emperor with four of the Guards layered on top of him. One of those toward the outside groaned and sank to the ground. A splinter the length of my forearm protruded from his shoulder. Blood gushed out.

The Emperor, his face now grim snapped to another Guard, Get the meds!

I commented to no one in particular, I came through a hedge over near the Red Court. I must have followed them in. Hurry and you might still get the other one. A female. She was limping.

The Emperor nodded at another Guard and said, See to it! She was dressed in a jump suit made of black pieren like the other was wearing. She’ll probably be mixing with the crowds by now. Her right leg was injured.

The Guard snapped to attention and said, Yes, Sire! then two of them turned and ran. Another brought a wristcom to his lips and passed the information along. The wristcom had a directional holo and I couldn’t see or hear who was on the other end.

Then the Emperor grabbed my upper arm in much the manner he’d employed when we first met. With a half dozen Guards around us and their guns bristling in all directions, we marched towards the palace, which was now ablaze with lights and visible through the leafless trees that surrounded the blast. He issued a continuous string of orders concerning sealing the perimeter.

With each command, a Guard or two turned away only to have others take their place. At one point, with a lowering look that boded ill for the woman in question, he ordered, Locate Lady Lynitte Morgana-White. Take her into custody for questioning—quietly.

I’d been silent as we hurried around the surprisingly large blast area left by the explosion. Catching sight of some of the debris, I firmly told my stomach that it would not be sick. I just hoped that none of it was from one of the Guards. At his words concerning the Lady, I queried light-headedly, Lini?

He hesitated, his string of commands suddenly arrested and his manner almost taken aback. The Guards glanced at me. Belatedly—very belatedly—I remembered the Nine Imperial Rules of Conduct, one of which was: No-one may question the Emperor.

At my prodding, my Memcon memory wafer clicked in to provide me with further information on the rule. It was carried to its logical extreme. I said lamely, Oh! I just remembered. Pardon me, Your…Your Prettiness? The last was said on a note of surprise and revulsion. I gave the side of my head a whack and corrected, Your Graciousness! Ready to drop with embarrassment, I said awkwardly, Sorry! Been meaning to get that wafer replaced for three years!

He was looking at me with an expression of incredulous amusement, but he turned away without saying anything in return. The reason for this being the sudden cheering coming from a terrace above us.

We’d just passed out of the woods onto a broad expanse of green lawn. Crowded above were hundreds of people, all of whom peered in our direction. Not my idea of a quiet, private party.

The Emperor raised his hand at their cheering and gave a professional smile. Still holding that smile, he again started issuing orders to the Guards around us. As he did, I reached into a pocket, pulled forth a disposable wipe, and proffered it to him. He hesitated in his speech again and gave me and it a puzzled look. I provided, You’re bleeding. I swiveled my eyes to his temple.

One of the Guards reached out to snatch the wipe away. Once again, the Emperor stopped him with a wave. Then he released my arm to take the wipe, saying, Thank you. but with a hard look into my eyes. As he dabbed at the cut, I added, There's a drip running down your face.

He said, Thank you. again in that same hesitant voice. The Guards were looking at me like I had two heads. I searched my faulty wafer for protocol and didn’t find anything wrong with my words. Maybe they thought the wipe was poisoned. I decided I’d better shut up.

We reached the terrace by that time. An elderly man with the manner of a personal servant appeared at the base of the steps that led to the terrace above and presented the Emperor with a set of earmikes and a wristcom, both of which he slipped on with automatic ease as we went up the steps. At the top, as most of the courtiers made way for us, I dropped behind a bit.

The Guards that were with us, who were all wearing battle-gear, stopped at the top of the steps. Four other Guards, who wore formal uniforms and held drawn hand stunners—rather than the huge rifles that the armored Guards held, stepped up behind the Emperor, effectively cutting me off.

Our…crowd…came to a stop before two men—one with lightly graying hair and the second, ludicrously tall and lanky and approximately the Emperor's age. The elder huffed in a cultured tone, Lister! You’re wounded!

The Emperor replied, Just a scratch, Uncle.

We’d best see to it anyway. He ordered one of the Guards, Contact the meds…

The Emperor interrupted, Later! First, let's calm the public. Rumors will be zipping after that explosion.

The younger man looked grim and angry. His eyes rested on me then slid away. He started to say something, but the Emperor cut him off with a raised hand, while listening intently to the earmikes. Suddenly there was another explosion and a flash of light, in the direction of the Red Square. Everyone jerked around to look.

The Emperor's brows twitched together, but his voice was calm as he commented, There was a second assassin. She must have suicided. After another moment during which he continued to listen, he supplied, Two Guards dead. No other casualties.

A murmur started up among the courtiers, but he ignored it, still involved with the messages. He suddenly said,