Chapter 20

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"Are you sure there aren't any cameras in there?" Alex asked, staring nervously at the screen.

The yellow light of the street lamps caught the statues on low pedestals and the black paved pedestrian zone of the alley, squeezed between the rows of giant trees of unknown species, with thick, several girths, smooth trunks. In the spots of light, couples strolling leisurely appeared sometimes, and somewhere in the distance behind the dark columns of trees, among the bright squares of shop windows, slid the flowing lights of night traffic.

"The atmosphere is most peaceful, if not romantic." Alex was looking at the future meeting place, but he couldn't get over his nervousness. He didn't like the atmosphere. And he didn't like the future meeting either.

"At some store, for example?" He clarified, turning away from the screen. "There could be a camera pointed toward the square or something like that."

"No, Your Lordship," Dudo answered from the semi-darkness of the saloon. He was in his civilian clothes, and because of his black vest, under which it was convenient to hide things, he seemed even larger than his already heroic proportions:

"I checked everything out. Plus, it's against the law to film in public places. You'd have to get consent from everyone who might be on the record, which is problematic. Sometimes they do it, but very rarely. And I checked the stores too." Just in case, he added.

"And then there are the droids," Alex muttered, turning to the screen again. There's one of them now, and it was broadcasting a picture of Victors' Alley for them. "And there's nothing you can do about them." He added, rather commenting on his own thoughts.

"If it's critical that you remain incognito, Your Lordship. Better take the orber."

"It's critical not to attract unnecessary attention." "Your Lordship" wrinkled his nose. "You said using the orber is like walking around with a sign that says 'nobles meet here'. What's all this for, then?" He asked, kicking the side of the van in frustration.

The landing bots had to be abandoned for obvious reasons. What kind of conspiracy is there with them if even the last dog will realize it was Prince Сassard who flew? We had to buy two air cargo cars, like flying vans. Secretly, for cash. With such transport, there was no question of any defense, and the load capacity suffered. The support team had only two men in armor, two snipers, and four men to support them, including Dudo. We could have bought more vans, but then the stealth of the operation would suffer again. But there was an advantage to having such a limited team:

At least none of the scouts are in the group. That thought brought Alex some relief since the last thing he needed was for Countess Darrelarl or anyone else from his House to be aware of his contacts with the rebels.

That's why the support group was staffed only by Carpathians from Kayrin's Arm. They, of course, could also snitch to their superiors, but Kayrin knew far worse secrets about him.

And Dudo. Just because we couldn't do without him. Besides, he's Navy, not intelligence. Though, hell hath no fury like a devil.

"Snipers report all clear." It came from behind.

Alex pulled out his comm and looked at the time. It was time to go out.

"Use weapons only when clearly threatened or on my signal," Alex repeated, fiddling with the settings of the personal shield on his belt, for which he had to unbutton his jacket and pull up his shirt with his chin. "This is just supposed to be a conversation, and I don't want it to turn into a gunfight and proceedings with the Metropolitan Police just because someone thought something was wrong."

"It will be done, Your Lordship."

Having waited for the characteristic beep that announced that the shield was in working mode, Alex adjusted his clothes and waved to the driver:

"Let's go."

The aerocar slowed down for a moment at the edge of the alley just to let him jump out and immediately picked up speed and disappeared into the flow of traffic, leaving him alone.

It was damp and cool outside. It felt like twelve or fourteen degrees, so he was dressed for the weather: a light white jacket made of porous but very smooth, slippery material, simple black pants, and a collar, or a muff or a hard scarf. Alex sincerely didn't remember the name of this thing, which was worn separately and lay on his shoulders in a ring, covering his face up to his eyes. It was not only "very fashionable among the bourgeoisie this season", according to his droid, but also gave hope that he could remain incognito.

Alex hid his nose deeper into his scarf and walked leisurely to the meeting place, listening to the steady noise of the night city. There was a thin drizzle of water in the still air, and the huge gas giant, which usually filled the whole sky, shifted to the horizon line, hiding behind the capital's high-rises and tree crowns, making the night darker than usual.

I wish I could just walk around here. He sighed wistfully. He would have loved to go out in this weather, and he'd have been happy to stroll around the capital, but the situation was not favorable. Assassinations, investigations, Taer, and now these 'freedom fighters' are here."

The sudden appearance of the rebels is certainly not a disaster, but it is very unfortunate.

Though, come to think of it, it's even weird that they only showed up now. He grinned. The desire to meet was understandable. They couldn't have been happier when they found out about my assignment.

It would not be a good idea to refuse them, but he had given them plenty of leverage. The fact he was connected to them was worth it. And judging by the letter he'd received, the rebels were well aware of that:

Well, I'll give them credit for helping me. Alex felt he owed these guys, maybe not the rebels in general, but at least those who'd risked their lives to find him on Tallane, like Krain, for example.

The pedestrian part of the alley gradually widened, becoming more spacious and diverging to the sides, and along its edges appeared the statues that gave it its name. The statues of the triumphants made of silver-gray metal, were full-length but stood on very low pedestals barely protruding from the black slabs of the pedestrian part.

It's a weird decision. It seemed to him that such placement somehow "stole the grandeur" from the figures of the triumphant, making them look simpler and more ordinary.

Alex paused for a moment at one of the statues, automatically glancing at the dedication plaque:

Flag Admiral the Lordship Prince Almit Beru. In the sixth year of the declaration of the Empirium defeated the azure fleet of the Union of Orders in pursuit battles near Bright.

The lordship prince was a short, overweight man with a very cheerful, round-cheeked face that one would rather expect to see on some cooking show host than an admiral crushing enemy fleets in pursuit battles.

Whatever they are, these pursuit fights. Alex smirked and walked on, taking his time.

He wasn't afraid of being late at all:

Even better to be a little late. The guys have more time to reconnoiter, and maybe the people meeting them will have a surprise. Not that he was expecting surprises from the rebels, not that they'd benefit from it, but the third assassination attempt in a row made him paranoid, just in case: One who takes care of oneself is also taken care of by Ryan. Or as they say here? he smirked at his thoughts.

Breath floated white smoke in the light of the lanterns, and the statues of triumphants, one by one, were left behind. In fact, the Cassard family was represented here somewhere:

I'd be curious to see it. But it was no time to look for a statue of Galen Cassard "for the conquest of Cholana".

Despite the "noon" standard time, passers-by were rare and passed by without paying attention to him, so this appearance must have been typical of the bourgeoisie at this season.

A small oval square surrounded by statues appeared ahead. This was where the one-on-one meeting was to take place near the emperor's monument.

The small earpiece embedded in his left ear beeped softly:

"We see you, Your Lordship." Dudo's voice came through. "No one matching the description has been seen in the square yet."

The connection was one-way, so Alex answered with a short nod and headed towards the Emperor's monument, as he had time to study the square well during the droid reconnaissance.

The square, as well as the rest of the alley, was not crowded, with a few casual strollers, a few people who were also obviously waiting for someone, and one cooing couple, on a bench at the very edge.

Not far from the Emperor's monument, a skinny teenager in a bright red jacket was hanging around, looking nothing like Krain or Liora, even from a distance.

Alex was immediately prickled with a bad feeling of foreboding, and as he came closer, it grew more and more outgrown the unpleasant anticipation of imminent trouble, settling heavily in his chest.

Of course they didn't recognize him. he mused, trying to figure out how to proceed, I only gave them a description of Liora, Krain, and the lizard-like that was with Liora at the Voigrom.

Lord Brenor Lister was standing by the statue of the Emperor. His head cocked curiously around. He was wearing a large, oversized, bright red sports jacket and baggy white pants and looked like some kind of local hooligan.

And there's no way he could have gotten here by accident. I had to figure out what he was doing here and how to deal with it.

Brenor noticed him too. The surprised expression on his face quickly changed to one of joy, and Lord Lister hurried to meet him.

Well, he can't be a rebel contact, can he? Alex pleaded in his mind as he looked at the rapidly approaching trouble, Please...

"He contacted you too, Lord Cassard?" Instead of a greeting, Brenor whispered, literally beaming with unhealthy enthusiasm.

"Who?" queried Alex cautiously just in case

"That pirate who helped us on Tallan. Krain."

"You could say that." He avoided a direct answer just so he wouldn't have to lie. "But is he a pirate?"

"Looks like a pirate, acts like a pirate, must be a pirate." Brenor shrugged indifferently. "I'll bet it's not clean." He added, even more quietly, with an understanding look.

"You think so?" Alex asked, looking around for the culprit of their conversation, unfortunately to no avail. "Then isn't it dangerous to meet him?"

"I carry a sword and a blaster." Lord Lister said meaningfully. "And then, he was very cryptic in his message. Said it might be important not only to me but to my whole House. You understand I couldn't help coming."

Judging by his radiant face, the real reason was more likely to be the young duelist's rebellious soul, weary of palace ceremonial and hungry for adventure.

Why he came is understandable. Alex thought, But why was he called?

No, the desire to "contact" was understandable. Brenor held a court position, which meant he was constantly with the Emperor. He was young, and as Alex realized, among this age group, there was the main mass of sympathizers of the rebels, and he was a lord. It was quite natural for the rebels to want to get in touch with him:

But why at the same time as me? That's stupid. If we meet separately, you can tell each other different things, and there's no risk of exposing two contacts at once in case of a misfire. And a lot of other reasons... It was very strange, and Alex didn't like it at all.

"But I'm awfully glad you're here, too." Brenor went on, not noticing his companion's thoughtfulness, clearly engrossed in his monologue. "Together, we can do anything. Like we did on Tallana..."

"I see someone matching the description." Suddenly the voice of one of the snipers sounded in the earpiece, but Alex already saw him. A tall, dark-haired man in his thirties was walking toward them from the street, most likely coming out of the cafes that stretched along the alley. He was Krain, the man the rebels had sent to find Lord Cassard on Tallana:

And what is characteristic is that he found them. Homebrew Cheguevara. Since their last meeting, the rebel had grown noticeably and acquired a thick stubble, finally becoming like a typical Cuban revolutionary. Light green eyes only did not quite fit into the type, but it was a trifle. Besides, the image of a revolutionary was additionally supported by a coat or rather an overcoat made of the same dark gray slippery porous material as Alex's jacket.

"Here comes our pirate," Alex warned in a half-voice, interrupting Lord Lister's train of thought.

Brenor stopped talking and looked up to find Krain with his eyes as well, clearly prepared for the meeting by taking on a serious and focused look.

"I see everyone is already here." The rebel who had come up smiled, waving his hand in greeting.

"And what was the point of gathering us together?" Alex asked, not hiding the displeasure in his voice.

"I have no idea," Krain admitted honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm just a messenger, an errand boy. Here." He pulled two envelopes out of his jacket pocket and handed them to them.

Lord Lister was the first to reach for the envelope, but he didn't have time to take it.

Alex noticed a movement from the side. One of the people who passed by suddenly threw an object at their group.

There was a dry crackle and a flash like an electric weld, muffled by the shield's shattered mirrored glow but still blindingly bright. Brenor and Krain fell to the sidewalk like two marionettes with cut strings, a metal ball the size of a tangerine covered with large black dots laying beneath their feet, hissing and crackling as short bolts of lightning discharged in blue serpents, spreading sideways across the stone slabs.

The thrower darted in their direction, clearly heading for the fallen Lord Lister, but from somewhere above came an orange blast of blaster fire with a shrill screech and knocked him to the ground, exploding against his back with a burst of smoky flame.

The shock of the unexpected attack gradually wore off, and Alex realized that for several seconds he had been hearing a rhythmic alarm in his earpiece, warning of danger, the frightened screams of people nearby, and the sound of a man running somewhere behind him. He turned around and saw another "passerby" running towards them from the opposite side of the trees.

Alex could only make out a silhouette in the darkness of the alley, but it seemed to Alex the man running toward them was holding a weapon. He snatched up his blaster from his jacket, immediately putting it into battle mode and pointing it at the man. He was just looking for the mark of the sight when the bright headlights of a car that had suddenly turned around blinded him. Turning off the roadway, an aircar drove into the alley. Alex reflexively covered his eyes with his free hand. He could no longer see either the runner or even whose car it was. Only two blindingly bright stripes on the sides of the car. Blaster discharges fired by the snipers flew over his head, but he couldn't see if they hit anything:

So aerocar, hostile. Alex concluded and sat down behind the statue of the emperor, quickly looking around, and catching his breath.

No one else ran towards them, not yet. On the contrary, some people ran away from the shooting, some just fell to the ground, and frightened screams could still be heard - fortunately, there were few really random passers-by, and none of them seemed to be hurt.

So far, not hurt.

Krain and Brenor lay motionless beside him, also partially covered by the statue and looking more paralyzed than dead. At least, Alex hoped so. The metal ball lying nearby had stopped spitting snakes of lightning and was only silently smoking. It smelled of ozone, burnt cloth, and burnt meat from the nearby attacker, who was motionless, his back blackened with a blackened spot with a smoldering scarlet border.

He was afraid to jinx it, but so far, it looked like they'd made it through. The attackers were pinned down by sniper fire and couldn't get out into the square.

"Okay." Alex exhaled. "We just have to wait for backup."

Backup had to be just around the corner. He even thought he could hear the distinctive pulsing howl of an accelerating aerocar.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

They're strange. He had time to think. They started with a stun grenade. It doesn't look like an assassination attempt. They fired a rocket right away...

But he was not allowed to think about the specifics of the attackers' tactics. Aerocar entered the alley and stopped fifteen meters away. What exactly was going on there could not be distinguished because of the blinding light of headlights, but Alex heard the sound of opening doors and then a characteristic squeal of "shorty".

A swarm of blaster discharges fired from a rapid-fire blaster struck him at his feet, shattering the sidewalk near Brenor and sending scarlet sparks from the statue that served as a makeshift shelter. Several discharges struck his shield, which for a moment appeared as a hemisphere of mirrored haze.

They're not shooting at me, are they? Alex suddenly realized with surprise. The line went too low as if they were shooting specifically at his feet. But they didn't shoot at my legs. They shot at the lying Lord Lister, and I and the statue are just in the line of fire.

Two blaster blasts buzzed overhead in the opposite direction, a response from the snipers on his guard. At that moment, he quickly bent over and grabbed Brenor by the scruff of his neck, pulling him toward him. The shield should be enough for another eight or ten hits, and that was better than relying on the Emperor's statue. It was no different in size from any other statue, and the cover was very tentative.

He pulled Lister toward him, and just in time, from the direction of the blinding headlights, the shortsword shrieked again, and frequent bursts slammed against the mirrored hemisphere of the shield.

Three, five? He didn't know how much longer the shield would last, but his idea was confirmed. The second line went higher. The unknowns were firing at Brenor.

Alex tried to lift Brenor higher so that if the shield failed, the statue would cover him not only with its legs. But his jacket was pulled up, and he almost fell out of it hanging on the sleeves and on the black slabs of the sidewalk sprinkled all the change he had in his pockets, and with a plastic clatter fell a small milky white disk.

He dragged it here with him, too. Alex wailed mentally and tried to drag the fallen droid messenger with his foot, but before he could do it, the white disk quietly purred and rose into the air.

Another burst painted the Emperor's statue with scarlet blotches. Not paying attention to the white disk of the droid-messenger circling, Alex, continuing to hold Lord Lister with one hand, fired two shots in the direction of the blinding headlights, if not to hit someone (he didn't see anyone), then at least to break the headlight.

Another swarm of buzzing wasps passed over his head, not even hitting his shield, only knocking fountains of scarlet spray from the top of the statue.

A distinctive pulsing howl of engines was heard from the side, and the orange side of the security aircar flashed through the trees.

The white disk of the droid orbited the head of the statue, and a white scanner beam stroked across the metal face of the Emperor's statue.

"Your Majesty!" Alex shuddered in surprise. Despite his age, Baron Assaro had a very clear and strong voice, or rather his hologram did. In front of the Emperor's statue, the figure of the Baron in his court robes, translucent in the bright light of the headlights and more like a ghost, appeared in front of the Emperor's statue.

"I accuse!" The ghost exclaimed somewhat theatrically. "I accuse Lord Inaro, head of the great House of Peltar, his sister, Princess Nadina, and the First Lord Inquisitor Quezox of my murder and conspiracy..."

The attackers, when the hologram appeared, go berserk, and the end of the Baron's phrase was drowned in the screech of rapid-fire blasters. A string of discharges whirred over Alex's head, periodically showering him with scarlet sparks of scale knocked out of the statue's head. They were clearly trying to hit the droid, but the narrow white disk was a difficult target.

"Perhaps too direct." The baron's ghost grinned, apparently unaffected by the frenzy of gunfire around him. "But since you can see that, it means I underestimated the desperation or stupidity of my visions and have been dead for at least five days. I suppose a dead man can afford that luxury, to be blunt..." The hologram was silent for a brief pause as if assessing the effect of its own words. "And I testify ..." He continued in a more subdued voice. "I testify that when the prediction of your imminent demise was confirmed, I was compelled to act. Regardless of my relationship with you and your legacy, my position on the House Council gives me the responsibility to think about the future, and to neglect such information would not only betray the interests of my House but possibly jeopardize its very existence. Therefore, I have been carrying on secret communications with those mentioned and every one of them. Everyone!" With renewed drama, the Baron raised his voice, raising his finger into the dark sky of the capital. "Agreed to conspire, to seize power after your death in violation of the oaths taken...."

I don't need any more conspiracy, Alex exhaled disappointedly. He was already glad, deep down, that the assassination attempt wasn't on him, so he didn't need to deal with any new problems.

But the attackers didn't give him time to think. A new burst of blaster charges smashed against the statue with a dry electrical crackle, and he pressed himself tighter into the cold metal, writhing involuntarily each time another discharge spattered scarlet metal. Several molten droplets struck the messenger droid, melting several long black streaks into its plating. The little droid swayed but withstood the impact, only the hologram flickered, almost disappearing for a few seconds.

They'll get it. Alex glanced at the small white disk. It was flying not high enough. He can try to grab it. If I don't get it first...

"I won't grovel for excuses. I'm as much of an oath-breaker as they are. It's just I've become inconvenient and dangerous. But..." Shrugged the hologram as it continued its monologue. "The dead know no dishonor, and I'm not one to humble myself and quietly walk away for the sake of someone else's interests. I hope you never see this record, Your Majesty." The Baron added, sighing heavily. "Otherwise, I hope at least one of my messages ..."

Alex carefully placed Lord Brenor on the sidewalk at the foot of the statue, waited for the next burst of fire from the attackers to finish, and rushed to the droid, trying to grab it with his free hand.

"Damn you!" The droid dodged the attempt to catch him with unexpected grace. // I wish it'd spin around like that when it shot.

Alex was about to make one more attempt but at that moment, everything was covered by the mirrored haze of the activated shield, and he, almost deafened by the crackle of blaster discharges, reflexively covered his head with his hands and squeezed himself into a lump under the fire, trying to become as small a target as possible.

As soon as the shield thinned enough for him to make out objects, he lunged at the droid, literally jumping on top of it. The shield withstood this time, but he didn't want to test it again.

He grabbed the slippery white disk at the second attempt and rushed to his only shelter, the statue of the Emperor, pressing his whole body into it.

The next shots are definitely mine. Alex looked out from behind the statue with one eye to assess the situation, hiding the droid under his jacket at the same time it was rumbling its engines and twitching, trying to break free.

But instead of another burst of fire, a guard aerocar hovered overhead, ten meters away, howling with thrust generators, covering the dark night sky with its flat orange belly. With a metallic rumble, its side door flew aside, and two heavy fighters jumped out of the opening, hovering in the air on the engines of their armor. With a pulsing howl, their blasters began to crush the attackers with fire, sending short, stingy bursts of fire in their direction one after another.

"I think we made it through. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped. This time...

At that moment, there was a loud glass pop from above, as if a huge light bulb had burst. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex noticed the white balloon above the top of the statue as a thick whitish wave hit it.

The shield that shuddered from the impact deprived him of his view for a moment, obscuring everything with a mirror-like ripple. The shield didn't fully regain its transparency, but there was another clap of the same kind right next to it, and another.

When the haze subsided, a thick white suspension stood solidly around him, playing pearlescent wherever the white spots of street lamps and headlights shone through it. The shield's mirrored barrier, which had malfunctioned, had outlined an even black circle of untouched slabs around him, beyond which everything was covered with white dust glistening on the damp sidewalk.

In the thick, pearly white clouds of man-made fog that smelled of old dust, there was absolutely nothing to see, literally at arm's length. Shots were still coming from above but less frequently, and the sound of an approaching aerocar was growing rapidly from the side.

Alex squatted down tiredly near the foot of the statue:

All that's left to do is wait to be rescued.

After the first clap, he was naturally startled, but then he remembered Dudo's briefing on what the guards should do in the event of a possible attack. One of the points was, To reduce the effectiveness of enemy fire and deploy an energy-absorbing veil. And he strongly suspected that was it.

The veil. He reached forward and picked up the envelopes Krain had brought. They had been lying at their feet all this time, thickly covered with a whitish coating.

"Looks like glass." He rubbed the dust between his fingers, which upon closer inspection, consisted of tiny translucent balls.

Hiding the envelopes and putting his nose deeper into the scarf to breathe only through it, Alex began to wait for his saviors.

The wait was not long. Ten seconds later, judging by the sounds, a second aircar landed very close by. The door slammed open, and the wearers of heavy boots hurried toward it, treading the sidewalk.

"Your Lordship, are you hurt?" Two figures in billowing jumpsuits of anti-blaster foam, with scanners in their hands, emerged from the pearly mist. Medics from the support team,

"No." Alex jerked his head. "Examine Lord Lister and this passerby." He pointed at Kryn. "After that, take care of the attacker who was shot in the back. Hopefully, he can still be saved. I could use a source of information."

The medics must have taken his word for it, pointing the scanner's nozzle at his face, and only then did they take care of the others.

"Just paralyzed and post-shock syndrome." The report came in after a quick examination of Brenor and Krain.

"Good." Nodded Alex rising. "Take care of that attacker, and see if any other random bystanders need help."

The medics had yet to melt into a pearly veil when a massive dark figure loomed in the fog:

"You took your time," Alex grumbled to the approaching man. "I thought something was wrong."

"The vans have no acceleration or maneuverability." Dudo waved his hands with a disgruntled look. "It'll take a minute to accelerate. I told you we should have brought bots."

"Yeah, I did." Alex nodded, hiding his blaster back under his jacket and checking on the droid. It was quiet as if it had turned off or gone into standby mode. "Is it over in there?" He asked with a shake of his head toward the attackers' aerocar.

"I guess so." We burned their aerocar and shot two of them. Two more escaped, on their own, mixed in with passersby.

"You didn't pursue it?"

"I forbade..." Dudo hesitantly admitted. "The guys wanted to, but... First of all, it would weaken the available forces. What if they have someone else around who hasn't revealed himself yet? And second, in armor, with heavy weapons, in a decent part of the capital...."

Alex vividly imagined this action movie and the problems it could cause:

"You are quite right to forbid it." Hastily he nodded. "And what of those who were shot? Are they bad, or can they be questioned?"

"I wouldn't count on one." Dudo thought. "But the other one..." He hummed uncertainly, shrugging again. "I guess there's a chance. What the medics say."

They had already emerged from the fog to the aircars, which stood at an angle, facing each other, forming a makeshift shelterю The medical report came back. Two attackers had to be preserved and had a good chance of survival; the third was hopelessly dead.

"You stay here then." Said Alex, watching the still-paralyzed Lord Lister being loaded into the aerocar. "Obviously, we'll have to settle things with the police, and in general..."

Dudo nodded and leaned toward him asking in a half voice:

"What shall I tell them, Your Lordship?"

"Pure truth." He smirked. "Two luminous princes decided to meet up and take an incognito stroll when some scumbags attacked them. And that was that. Of course, there were some casualties. Fortunately, nothing serious, so it's not worth mentioning. In any case, the whole story is not their responsibility but mine."

Dudo nodded again, clearly realizing he didn't need to mention Krain, and stepped away from the aerocar. The door slammed shut, and the two cars, one with the wounded and Krain, the other with the bodyguards and the two lords, sped home toward the tower.

The pilots did not rush, and the two aerocars, like industrious fireflies, dutifully joined the glowing river of signal lights of night traffic. The engines purred as if they were huge cats, and the cabin was quiet enough to hear the whispers.

So when Lord Lister, who was lying on the stretcher, finally came to his senses, Alex quite heard him.

"I assume you managed to activate the droid?" Brenor whispered after looking around to make sure the guards were away.

"Yeah." He nodded, also trying his best to speak in a whisper. "It turned on by itself when it fell out of your jacket and reacted to the Emperor's statue."

"I supposed so." Sighed the brether. "The attack must have been about him, too?"

"Most likely, yes. The attackers tried to grab you, and when they failed, they shot the droid."

"Is it destroyed?" Lord Lister stirred with excitement.

"I don't know." Alex shrugged indifferently. "He was hit tangentially a few times. Maybe the damage was extensive. Maybe it was just the hull. It was a pretty serious fight, and the situation wasn't conducive to figuring out the fate of this little guy."

"Did he stay there? In the alley?" Brenor asked fearfully.

"Yeah." Once again, Alex lied and added in a soothing tone. "Don't worry. There are still some of my people there. In any case, it won't be lost. And if it's not destroyed, it'll certainly come back to you as soon as circumstances permit."

"What about that pirate? Krain?" After a moment's pause, Lord Lister asked, clearly calmed by the news that the droid would be returned to him.

"Was paralyzed like you." He shrugged again with an indifferent look. "My men will take him out so as not to cause trouble with the local police."

"I don't want to accuse anyone." In a careful whisper, Brenor began. "And I am eternally grateful to Krain for his help in circumstances known to you and me. But..." he stretched out meaningfully and added with a conspiratorial look. "The coincidence is very suspicious... If you know what I mean."

Alex understood perfectly well but diligently chased the thought away:

"The attackers could have been following one of us." He objected, more for complacency than anything else. He hated to think that Krain could have set them up like that.

"They could have." Lord Lister agreed readily. "But I took certain steps to keep it from happening and to keep the meeting secret. I think you, Lord Cassard, did what was necessary."

"Anything can be." He didn't disagree. "In any case, two of the attackers have been captured alive, though wounded. As soon as they speak, we can dispel our doubts or confirm them."

Brenor nodded in response and fell silent. Alex didn't want to continue the conversation. He was tired after the attack. // Must be the withdrawal.

But the silence turned out to be somehow nervous: Lord Lister was squinting strangely as if something important had not been said, from which Alex even began to wonder if he suspected who had actually taken the droid away.

"I heard everything." Finally, with some challenge in his voice, Brenor broke the silence. "I was paralyzed and couldn't move an eyelid, but I heard everything."

"Oh well." With a smile, replied Alex, who wasn't going to make a terrible secret from the Baron's hologram speech anyway. "Then I have less to explain to you."

Hearing this, Lord Lister was a little embarrassed. He clearly expected some other reaction:

"What do you intend to do now, Lord Cassard?" He whispered at last, after a short pause.

"Continue the investigation?" Alex shrugged. "It's not certain that the Baron wrote down the truth in his suicide message or that he was killed by those he suspected."

"No." Impatiently, Brenor waved it away. "I mean about the prediction. About the death of the emperor." He added quietly.

"What do I intend to do about it?" Alex interjected in surprise. "Nothing? What's it got to do with me? And I don't plan to get involved in such matters."

"But this concerns everyone!" Lord Lister was sincerely indignant, even raising his voice a little. "Everyone in general: you, me, your House, my House, our entire Sector. We are vassals of the Emperor. He is our only link to the Empire, the guarantor of our position in it, and the guarantor of the security that ensures that the Great Houses no longer fight openly. If he dies, everything disappears, everything."

Brenor looked so scared and serious at the same time that Alex even felt a little uncomfortable:

"You must have forgotten, Lord Lister, that I have lost my memory, and my judgment may be somewhat strange and naive, but I think you are being dramatic." He whispered in a conciliatory tone. "After all, it's only a prediction, not a fact. Besides, we don't even know what kind of prediction it is."

"We know it's about the Emperor's imminent demise, and that prediction has already been confirmed." Brenor objected, with an emphasis on "confirmed." "There are rumors at court about a prediction the court seer made on his deathbed. Perhaps this is it. In any case, House Melato and House Peltar have begun to act, which means they have reason to believe in this prediction..."

"And reasons to kill the imperial duke." Alex agreed involuntarily, sinking into his thoughts. "Whoever did it will be looking for them very carefully and obviously not only me but also more competent people."

"There, there, Lord Cassard. Exactly!" Lord Lister nodded excitedly with a gambling gleam in his eyes. "Such risks are only taken in the most desperate of situations and when something great is at stake."

"You're probably quite right." With a sigh, he agreed. "But I don't see what this has to do with us: you or me. I may hold an important position, but I'm not a political player. I don't know what's going on. I don't think you're one of the empire's decision-makers, either."

"It has everything to do with it!" Lord Lister exclaimed, clearly annoyed at being misunderstood. He jumped up impatiently from the stretcher on which he was lying. He sitting down beside Alex began to explain in a quick whisper:

"Like your marriage to Valerie. She may not be needed at all. The situation will be completely different if the Houses are on their own, completely unconstrained by the Emperor."

"Indeed." Alex agreed with some surprise. He had already forgotten about his potential marriage. "You're right." He nodded. "It has everything to do with me. On the other hand, if the Houses are on their own, and as far as I remember, your House has certain difficulties with Melato, then maybe the alliance and our marriage as a formal way to cement it will be even more necessary than before."

"Maybe so," Brenor whispered, an option he hadn't considered. It upset him a little and even seemed to take him aback. "No." He finally brushed off his thoughts. "The main supporters of your wedding were exactly the pro-Melato party, simply because it was the most financially favorable option. No one was ever serious about forming a full-fledged alliance..."

Alex looked with interest at the brether mumbling under his thoughts, who suddenly showed a great interest in high politics.

A sudden change? Or has he always been like this? The second was more likely. People rarely "suddenly" have an interest in politics, especially at nineteen...

Lord Lister was sitting next to him, wearing a light sleeveless jacket that had been removed by the medics from the escort team to give him an injection to ease the effects of the paralysis. His weapon belt was perfectly visible. Under his left arm was a holster with a miniature blaster, and under his right, closer to Alex, hung the hilt of a sword with an openwork grip.

I'm about as good at these swords as I am at ballet, he thought as he examined the intricate weave on the hilt, but it's painfully reminiscent of the one Brenor had on the day of the duel, and which was supposedly stolen from him by the rebels who showed up so fortunately....

"I see you managed to get your sword back after all?" He commented aloud, as if unintentionally.

"Uh... Yeah." Unsurely, Brenor replied, flinching slightly at the unexpected question. "The Retainer Service showed wonders of slyness, but they brought her back." He continued, adjusting the grip on his belt.

"That's just wonderful." Alex smiled at him, and looking straight into his eyes, he continued.

"Not that it matters now, but... Tell me. You didn't accidentally intervene in the duel back then in the Emerald Gardens, did you?"

"Well, I thought it was strange..." Brenor began to lie uncertainly, and his eyes ran around to avoid Alex's gaze. "So I decided to follow you... Just in case." He added hastily, but seeing that he wasn't believed, not a word of it, finally broke down.

"It's dishonorable to attack during a duel, but I couldn't let you die," he muttered, looking down at the floor, "Then they'd just kill her..."

"Who?" Alex sincerely didn't understand.

"Valerie." With a wistful sigh, Brenor replied. "You have no idea what we have going on Allesandro, but... She's only alive because she can be married off."

"Am I to understand correctly that we're talking about the Ruling Lady of House Bentar?" He clarified just in case.

"It's only a title." Lord Lister waved it away. "She's practically a hostage. She has no real power, none at all. And so many of the clans would like to elect a ruling lord..."

"Let's say." Alex interrupted, feeling that the matter was getting into the intricacies of interbreeding politics of a foreign House that he didn't understand at all. "But what does that have to do with you, Lord Lister? Are you an agent of the ruling lady? Her confidant?"

"I... I love her."

Alex looked at his friend doubtfully. He didn't seem to be lying.

Well, she's a pretty girl, of course, and he's at the age to fall hopelessly in love. But, uh.

"You know." After a long pause, Alex finally said. "I can't claim you saved my life, honestly or dishonestly. I don't care. I'm glad. But it's kind of unhealthy fegnya for a young guy to arrange a marriage for the one he loves with someone else instead of, somehow, making it so you'd be together.

"Once again you do not notice that you speak another language, Lord Cassard." Brenor smiled weakly. "What is fegnya?"

"That's what you do." He explained seriously. "It's best not to suffer at all with this and fall in love with someone more suitable, but in your case, I'm not even suggesting that."

"What can I do, Lord Cassard?" Brenor sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Though I am a lord, I am not the head of the Сlan as you are. I don't get to decide much. I don't get to choose my bride, and it certainly won't be Valerie Bellar. Worse, my Сlan will be glad she's dead."

"Anything." Alex shrugged. "Like running away with her somewhere far away since she's like a hostage anyway."

"That only happens in holo." Brenor shook his head, grinning wryly.

Persuasion in such a situation is pointless and probably stupid, so the conversation stopped by itself, and soon the two orange aerocars flew under the shields of the tower, gently lowered on the lifting field.

* * *