Chapter 6

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A huge hall, a hundred meters long, with obscenely high ceilings. The walls were draped in a kind of golden silk covered in intricate silver embroidery. The tall windows were almost entirely covered with scarlet drapes, and tapestries hung along the walls. Painted on the ceilings was yet another battle scene, with starships crushing each other across a starry sky. In the center of the hall was a giant table filled with various dishes, and behind it in tall, massive armchairs sat people, or rather a crowd of people - more than forty, that's for sure.

Relatives have gathered, Alex thought without enthusiasm as he sat down at the head of the table, with Taer to his left and an empty chair to his right. Barra remained somewhere behind, giving instructions to servants and droids, more than a dozen of them bustling around.

The family stared expectantly at Lord Cassard. He sighed heavily - to himself, of course - took the glass promptly filled by Barra and, gathering all his politeness into a fist, launched into a lengthy speech. For about fifteen minutes:

"Thank you for your support in my hour of need... I hope that in the future... you are the closest people to me... our next meeting will be connected..."

Alex thought to himself with pleasure: We can do it when we want! Sometimes I express myself in such bureaucratic language that if I had been born earlier, I would have been a Komsomol leader!

The family erupted in cheers and began an endlessly long series of reciprocal thanks and wishes. Alex thanked the relatives for their attention and care with raised glass but did not eat or drink much. He had become temporarily paranoid after reading the numbers, so he was wary of eating in front of such a crowd of interested persons. Although he understood that it was foolish if they wanted to poison him, even a small sip would be enough.

After an hour and a half, the atmosphere became less tense. The kin, visibly drunk during the reply speeches, were actively communicating with themselves. Alex whispered to Taer about the prices of consumer goods, and she (from nothing to do) answered.

It turns out that the imperial credit is slightly cheaper than the dollar, so one denarius is worth about eight bucks. That means that I have four hundred billion dollars in foreign exchange reserves. Stabilization fund, he grinned at this thought and mechanically sipped from his glass.

Just then, he noticed that in the chair to the right, which had been empty until then, an imposing old man in his seventies was sitting and smiling, looking at Alex. A strong face riddled with deep wrinkles and agile gray eyes that sparkled under bushy eyebrows. On his head was a small scarlet turban adorned in the center of a large brooch with a large transparent stone in which iridescent iridescence played. A long gray braid was thrown over his shoulder, and some elaborate ornament ... of gold, it seemed. He was dressed in dark pants and a burgundy tunic, over which was some semblance of a dark purple robe without sleeves, decorated with gold embroidery. The old man's face seemed vaguely familiar: That's right. He was the one who poured some nasty stuff into my mouth; Taer said it was the antidote that saved my life.

"Baron Kouifi?" Alex asked as politely as possible.

The old man laughed out loud and clapped Alex on the shoulder:

"And I was told by that silly healer that you'd forgotten everything, kid! That's right. I always thought those assholes couldn't be trusted!"

"I really had almost forgotten everything. So... just vague shreds of memory."

"I'm thinking maybe it's for the best." The baron winked. "You even met your relatives. And - without swearing. Who would have told me about it before - I would not have believed it!"

"It was Taer and Barra who insisted. To improve the image in the view of the impending case in the Consulate Court," Alex commented modestly.

"There! You've begun to listen to smart people, and soon you'll stop drinking and hanging around in an obscene manner!" continued joking Baron.

"Yeah, I don't really have any positive feelings about alcohol."

"You?" He snatched the glass from Alex's hands with a deft movement and drank it, after which he looked completely dazed and defiantly grabbed his heart. "Pity the old man, call him an old fart, or I'll die of happiness. What a useful poison it turned out to be! And where were they before!"

Alex only now realized that the Baron was quite tipsy, and it made him a little tense:

"Well, if it helps the man who saved my life, I'm willing to call you "old fart" as much as you want."

"That's it! You saved the day! You're not exactly a saint after all, though," Kouifi winked slyly. "I heard you invited Kay Rionale for a visit."

"Uh... yeah," Alex said, a little embarrassed, just in case.

"Don't be shy. It's a young thing, and the girl - wow, she's good! But," the baron suddenly lost all his hops and feigned merriment. "I am no longer your guardian, but listen to the old man, keep an eye on her - you have not been on good terms with her before, to put it mildly. And Kayrin's not the kind of person to let go of old grudges."

"All right, I'll keep that in mind. And you were my guardian?"

"Yes, I was your guardian until you were eighteen, and then you went off on your own," the Baron winked again and emptied his glass in a gulp.

"What happened to my parents?" Alex asked, who decided it wasn't unreasonable to know his family's history.

The old baron sighed heavily and began to tell the story.

Galen Cassard, his wife Astil, and his older brother and sister, Cort and Jaoni, were aboard the family yacht, the Cassard Star, when it went into hyperjump to Copeira, never to leave it again. External observation stations confirmed that the jump vector was correct, and the route was repeatedly checked, but neither the yacht nor her wreckage was found. The yacht had simply disappeared into hyperspace. When two years had passed, the Cassard family was declared missing, and the will left by Galen went into effect. And the guardian of the only surviving heir, eight-year-old Allesandro, was Baron Kouifi, an old friend of Galen's from his days in the Guard.

At this rate, the paranoia will progress rapidly.

Alex was sure there was something unclear about the missing yacht. But since it was a thing of the past, he moved on to more pressing matters:

"Baron, since you were my guardian, perhaps you know what the "master plan" is? I contacted the Office, and they told me something about its execution, but I found only two lines about it in the reports and no explanation."

"Well, it was my idea," Baron Kouifi looked a little embarrassed. "When all this happened with Galen, so many things piled up, and then there was the Office with the Retainers - with all the mortgages, the loans, the taxes, the excess of costs over revenues. I didn't have time to deal with it, and I can't stand it either... Anyway, I went to the Office, caught that young chink Rist, and said: "I'm putting you in charge here! By next year, I want you to be profitable! And increase every year by a tenth. That's your master plan! And if you don't, I'll find you and skin you!" And then, somehow, it became a tradition. They steal, of course, but if enough for the whole household, and even with a profit, then the hell with them, I think so!" Baron resolutely finished.

There was certainly a grain of truth in the Baron's words, but the fact that someone there is completely uncontrolled to run all the affairs caused Alex a slight discomfort.

Anyway, what the hell with them, if they corrupt ones - I don't have any others anyway. I don't have to sort out the paperwork myself, do I?

Encouraged by this thought, Alex continued to communicate with others. About an hour and a half later, Baroness Rionale arrived, but there was no more strength to communicate with her - I wanted to sleep. And they put her quite far away from Alex.

So, after half an hour, seeing that the relatives were still in the middle of the party, Alex hurried away, citing the general weakness after the poisoning. As he passed Kayrin, Alex sent her the most apologetic look he could muster, and with a look of regret that if it weren't for circumstances... She replied with a smile of understanding and proceeded to chat with some older woman who seemed to be a third cousin or something like that.

He made his way to the bedroom with the help of Taer, who happened to have a bedroom next door ("Purely for your safety, my lord!" she commented on his meaningful look.), "my lord" stripped off his clothes and flopped down on the bed.

The dark room was flooded with a ghostly, slightly reddish light from the window, which felt like it was well past midnight. Alex overpowered himself, got up, and went to the window to see what was shining there. And he froze in shock.

An incredible number of unfamiliar stars shone high above, a wide silver ribbon crisscrossed the sky, and a giant red cloud hung in the starry depths just above the lone greenish moon, pierced by an intricate web of dark fibers. The crimson nebula flooded the earth with a steady reddish glow.

Alex stood against the cold glass, looking up at the sky, which was so alien. And that's when he felt especially sad, really sad. The fact that he was in a completely different place, and everyone he knew - including parents, brother, and friends - remained in Moscow finally penetrated his consciousness, dazed by the rush of events and impressions. And the thought made something in his chest clench and become very dreary.

Hey. You can cry some more and it'll all go right away... Go to sleep, you wimp!

"From the first sign of schizophrenia, I hear!" he said aloud, waddled over to the bed, collapsed, and burrowed under the covers. He fell asleep instantly.

* * *

When he woke up the next day, he lay in bed for half an hour, too lazy to get up. Then he put on the same "hunting" suit that he wore yesterday and went out into the corridor - to explore. The reconnaissance did not yield any tangible results. So back in the bedroom, he contacted Taer, who said that if he is not killed right now, she is very busy, and Barra will explain everything. Barra explained that: Taer and Baron Kouifi had gone away to communicate with potential lawyers and to settle some matters with the Сonsulat court and that they would appear by evening. They both very much asked that they not leave the castle in their absence. Barra also handed over a letter from Taer.

How nice - house arrest! Alex muttered as he opened the letter. Though, of course, mentally, he knew that going anywhere alone was a stupid idea.

The letter turned out to be more of a two-line note: "No traces of poisons or any foreign substances were found on the dishes used during the dinner with Baroness Rionale. Taer."

Alex hummed and shrugged:

"All right, what's the plan for today?" tiredly, he asked the steward.

It turned out that the plan was to have a general breakfast with the family, then see the family off, and then "my lord" was free to do whatever he wanted. Alex sighed heavily, thanked Barra, and went on to the first point of the plan - to the breakfast.

After breakfast, the long farewells to the kin began. Standing with the steward on the platform near the front entrance to the castle, Alex thanked the relatives for their participation and support as they loaded into the flying flyers. He didn't offer to stop by just yet, though, hoping the kinfolk would take the hint. Baroness Rionale had some business on Fyron, but she planned to return in just a couple of days and for the whole "golden season".

There was absolutely nothing to do, so Alex, taking his secretary droid with him as a guide, went on a long walk around the castle to explore the area.

It's not cool to walk around your own castle with an escort.

Indeed, towards evening, Taer and Baron Kouifi arrived and brought Alex, the lawyer they deemed worthy to represent them in court, for approval.

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All three were waiting for him in the office. The lawyer turned out to be a blond man in his forties, with regular features, dressed in something resembling a light brown trench coat with a cropped collar and loose gray pants. He held out his hand to Alex and introduced himself:

"Anzati Ritero, I hope to represent you in court Lord Cassard."

"I hope so too, and I expect my representation will be successful," Alex shook his outstretched hand firmly.

"Oh, don't even worry about it. I'll only get paid if the case is successful, so I'm more than motivated," Anzati smiled broadly.

"Well, that's good! Have you already discussed all the terms of our cooperation?" Alex asked, looking at Taer and Baron Kouifi.

"Yes, Allesandro, all we have to do is sign the contract and discuss the next steps," Baron Kouifi was sober, focused, and in no way reminiscent of yesterday's jolly joker.

Before signing, Alex habitually ran his eyes over the contract, causing Taer's and the baron's eyebrows to rise in surprise. Allesandro must not have bothered to read the contracts.

Anzati Ritero's fee was a hundred thousand danarii, payable if he won the case. I don't know how much they're supposed to pay lawyers here, but it looks all right.

Having signed the contract, they began to discuss the necessary preparations for the trial, which consisted of preparing some papers and coordinating future testimony. It was Alex's duty to be out in public more often and to demonstrate his sanity in every way possible.

"Tomorrow, there's a gala at the Emerald Gardens hosted by the House of Bentar. You're welcome to attend to say a few unimportant words or two. Taer will back you up if you need it," Baron Kouifi suggested.

"Yes, it would be a great way to draw the opinion of the majority of the nobility to our side. They will not like it if one of them, though not the best reputation but perfectly sane, is deprived of rights. It's an unpleasant precedent." The baron supported the lawyer.

Alex saw no reason to refuse - to the Emerald Gardens, so to the gardens! It was better than being bored.

After talking for about three hours, Alex and Taer went to see the lawyer and Baron Kouifi off. Already at the door of the flyer, the lawyer held out his hand again and, looking Alex in the eyes, asked:

"But please, Lord Cassard, restrain your impulses. Your reputation will already be a problem."

"I'll do my best," the "lord" sniggered back. And after waiting for the flyer to depart, he turned to Taer:

"Yes, what's wrong with my reputation? You - all about reputation, the baron - about reputation, even the lawyer - about reputation? What's wrong with it?"

Taer smirked maliciously, anticipating revenge, and began to tell the story. The story took about half an hour, during which Alex's eyes widened more and more with horror.

If she was to be believed in the story (and there was no point in not believing it - she was a girl who could certainly add color, but there was no point in lying), Lord Allesandro Cassard was an organic combination of Paris Hilton, Shnurov, and the unforgettable Zhirinovsky. There was even a tape of pornographic content, though it never made it to the Holo-V, thanks to the heroic efforts of Taer and the Retainer Service of the House of Fyron. And all sorts of disorderly acts and appearances in public places in indecent looks and insults to others. Sometimes even a banal brawl! That, of course, did not add to Lord Cassard's charm in the eyes of the other nobles of the House. To prevent the devastating effects of the lord's lifestyle, the consul had persuaded him to be accompanied by a "specialist in personal security" whose main task was to prevent various antics... or to keep them out of the public eye if they could not be prevented...

"And what, I'm on that tape in the nude with the girls and..." whispered a dumbfounded Alex.

"Exactly! And with three!" Taer smirked maliciously and decided to deliver the final blow. "But the commoners love you. You're a star! They used to sell posters of you, and you weren't alone, but with beautiful strangers amid the process. You liked those posters, by the way, and you always regretted that they were confiscated as "offensive to the dignity of House Fyron"... though," she winked playfully. "In the Free Worlds Zone, they're still quite possible to find."

Well, at least it's a good thing it was with girls, Lord Allesandro, judging by the description, would have expected more than that. He shuddered, imagining what might have been in there instead of the girls.

"Okay, let's go to dinner. We're going out tomorrow." Alex grinned crookedly. "You make sure I don't embarrass myself."

The next morning passed in feverish preparation for the Emerald Gardens event. A consilium of Taer and Barra reviewed and rejected over a dozen different outfits, decided that Alex needed a shave (Taer had decided this), and gave Alex a long lecture on how to behave and how not to behave. By the middle of the day, exhausted but dressed and shaved, Lord Cassard was ready to leave when suddenly, it turned out that Taer, as a witness, was urgently summoned to the Consulat court and the reception. So he would have to go alone. Realizing he was left without Taer's cover and advice, Alex panicked at first, but it was no longer possible not to go - the invitation had been confirmed as early as last night. So Lord Cassard, swearing to himself for pro forma, exhaled and reminded himself that: Moscow is behind us, and there is nowhere to retreat! went to the reception.

The Emerald Gardens were a huge park complex with various pavilions, gazebos, lodges, and even stables to provide horseback riding, The Emerald Gardens were and were something of a private club, being a favorite meeting place and hangout of the nobility on Copeira. They got their name from a small garden of crystal plants taken from some unimaginable distance. All of this Alex knew thanks to the morning enlightenment given by Taer. Today's reception was held in the "summer pavilion," so he probably wouldn't be able to see the Emerald Garden itself.

Well, you can always walk a couple of kilometers through the thicket, get lost just in case, but still find the Emerald Garden, though with "sane" behavior does not fit, Lord Cassard reminded himself, getting out of the flyer.

The pilot, a young guy in his twenties in a white livery with a red floral pattern, said he would await the call nearby.

At the entrance to the pavilion, he was met by a charming and graceful girl of about twenty-five with piercing blue eyes and raven-wing hair, in which a strange, as if glass flower glittered. A long gown of golden silk accentuated her figure, and an airy, translucent shawl glowed slightly on her shoulders. She had a soft, velvety voice:

"I am so glad that you have recovered and were able to accept our invitation, Lord Cassard. We were all so worried about you!"

"Yes, luckily, it's all right, but the memory lapses sometimes take their toll, lady..." Alex looked expressively at his companion, hinting that it wouldn't be a bad idea to introduce oneself.

"Ah!" she smiled embarrassedly. "Forgive me, Lord Cassard, I have been warned, but it seems you are not alone in having lapses of memory. Lady Laquita Asta."

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, lady."

Behind Alex, there was the throbbing sound of a flyer flying in, and the quiet click of a door opening heralded the arrival of another guest.

"Well, I dare not stop you any longer, Lord Cassard! You, like all young people, must want to have fun." She smiled charmingly and made an inviting gesture. "I hope you have a good time."

Alex, slightly surprised by the "young" passage, entered the pavilion.

The hall fully met the local architects' idea of what normal size is. That is, it was incredibly huge. In the center of the pavilion, there was a fountain whose jets made incredible shapes in the air, turning it into an intricate web of water ribbons. Dozens of couples were dancing around the fountain. More than a hundred members of the "cream of society" laughed, chatted, and flirted in the hall. Alex began to carry out the orders of Taer honestly: exchanged with someone a couple of insignificant phrases, accepted five congratulations for recovery, and thanked them for their worries. After talking for about twenty minutes, he decided that his task was done and took a glass with something less resembling alcohol from the table with drinks and went to prop up the wall. He was afraid to engage in long conversations without the informational support of Taer, he could not dance, and after the stories about his reputation - to seek the company of local beauties - he was just shy.

So, choosing a position near one of the exits to the park, Lord Cassard began to kill time by looking at the local crowd. Next to him for about twenty minutes was also propped up against a wall, a very young boy, maybe eighteen, a little unsteady, with the classic appearance of a nerd and traces of youthful pimples on his face.

He probably can't dance either and is too shy to approach the girls, Alex decided as he looked around at his fellow bore.

The boy did not attempt to communicate, nor did Alex. They stared at the noble crowd in silence, occasionally sipping from their glasses. He was plucked out of his contemplative reverie by a stranger, "about the same age, maybe a little older," Alex estimated. A rather tall brunette with an eagle's nose and a frowning mouth, and thin lips:

"Lord Cassard, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you which cannot wait!" He pointed to the exit of the park.

"Well, if it's so urgent," Alex shrugged and followed the stranger.

They hadn't gone more than a hundred yards before two men emerged from behind the dense, trimmed bushes, blocking the way forward. Alex noticed, with his peripheral vision, a figure appearing behind them, blocking the path of retreat.

It was all so familiar that Lord Cassard almost said, on the spot: "No change, no cell phone". But he was overtaken by one of the "thugs," a blond man with dark gray eyes and a faint scar on his right cheekbone, wearing leather pants and a short gray tunic:

"Lord Cassard, your illness has excused you, but now I demand satisfaction!" He looked at Alex angrily and grinned wickedly.

Alex's eyebrows went up. In his head flashed what satisfaction do you want, you homosexual thug?

Seeing the surprise and incomprehension on Alex's face, the blond grabbed the handle hanging from his belt and growled:

"Duel! Now!"

"But I..." The dumbfounded Alex was just beginning to think of a lie when he was interrupted by the brunette who brought him in:

"I don't like you, Lord Cassard, but I'll give you my sword and be your witness." With these words, he unhooked the hilt with an openwork hilt hanging from his belt and handed it to the bewildered Alex, stepped back two steps:

"Would you gentlemen care to reconcile?" asked the companion of the aggressive blond.

"Never!" He roared, and in his hand flashed a golden blade about a meter and a half long.

"Yes, I'd like to..." But the seconds didn't listen to Alex and gave the go-ahead:

"Start!"

The blond man smiled and, squinting his eyes evilly, began to approach slowly, treading softly on the grass. His smile didn't bode well.

So, Your Grace? Did you enjoy being a lord? Eat this. That Jedi's gonna cut you up like a sausage, and you don't even know how to use that damn sword! Instantly his hands were sweating and trembling with the adrenaline that was rushing in; Alex was feverishly trying to decide whether he could escape if he darted into the bushes now and whether he could lose his nobility for the dishonor of running away from a duel. He would not, for the witness stand too unfortunate. Alex threw k glance at his sword, trying to figure out how it worked, but then a voice came from behind:

"Gentlemen, don't you think it would be more proper from the point of view of the Code of Honor if Lord Cassard's second were a man who is undoubtedly honest but who is not concerned with the offense he has caused? I, for example."

Alex, not turning his body, quickly looked back - the nerd was standing there, holding the hilt hanging on his belt. The brunette, who had appointed himself as second, started to object but was interrupted by the nerd:

"Or are you questioning my honor, gentlemen?" He removed the hilt from his belt and smiled with a look of challenge.

The "Thugs" immediately began to assure him that they were in no way questioning Lord Lister's honor. It's strange, they seem to be afraid of him.

"Very well, then! Then allow me, Lord Cassard, to be your second," and without waiting for Alex to agree, he went straight to the point:

"As a challenge, you choose your weapon. What do you prefer? A sword? Saori? A blaster?"

The sword didn't promise any chances; he didn't know what a "saori" was, but a blaster...

"Blaster!" Alex blurted out, calculating that it wasn't much harder to shoot than a pistol.

The nerd shrugged in surprise and headed toward the group of "offended":

"Gentlemen, the challenged party has chosen the blaster as the weapon of the duel. Let the offended choose the form of the duel."

"But we don't have our blasters with us," the brunette protested.

"I'll arrange for them to be delivered in about two hours," Lord Lister brushed him off.

The blond man looked angrily at the nerd, clearly disrupting his plans. He cursed silently and licked his dried lips:

"Okay, blasters at fifty paces, in five hours on the south boardwalk." He waved his hand, pulling the rest of the "offended " behind him, who, radiating fury, walked quickly away toward the pavilion.

"An odd choice, Lord Cassard." The nerd crouched on the grass beside Alex, who was breathing heavily, slowly recovering from his shock. "You were never a great swordsman, but your nightmarish shooting is legendary."

"I think it gives me a better chance," Lord Cassard shrugged. "I see they're wary of you." He nodded in the direction where the "offended" had gone.

"Nerd" smiled predatorily:

"Well, you are not the only one with a reputation, Lord Cassard. True, my reputation is of a somewhat different kind."

"By the way, it's not against the laws of honor if I practice with my blaster before the duel because they will be delivered before it starts."

"Why not? It's quite possible - the Emerald Gardens has a shooting gallery. We can go there."

Two hours later, a much calmer Alex was already firing at the holographic targets with the blaster. The blaster made a high-pitched sound, like a shriek, and a red streak of discharge rushed toward the next target with a loud whirring sound. It blinked and disappeared in a swirl of bright lights.

The weapon looked very much like a common sports pistol, which Alex had used in his time in the section at the institute. A massive developed grip, a thin long barrel, ending in a small bell. The trigger, rear sight, and front sight were all very familiar, except there was a "ready lever" instead of a bolt. The blaster had no recoil, and the light trigger and well-developed sights allowed for very accurate shooting. Much more accurate than an ordinary pistol - fifty paces would be an almost impossible range for it. For a blaster, that was a serious range, too, though Lord Brenor Lister (that was the nerd's name) showed Alex how to adjust the focusing crystal - reducing the clot's power and increasing accuracy. After firing off the series, all he had to do was to throw up his hands in amazement:

"Looks like all those stories about your shooting was speculation, you're an excellent marksman. Will you teach me?"

"After the duel, of course," Alex grinned wickedly.

The initial shock was gone, and now he was full of determination and anger. He was anxious to make the blond man pay dearly for his fear and insecurity. And so, full of icy rage, he sent shot after shot at the targets, getting used to the unfamiliar weapon.

Two more hours later, they arrived at the duel site in Lord Lister's flyer. Leaving the car at a distance, they walked to the south quay. It was late evening, and the waterfront was completely deserted. The tall trees growing along it provided additional shade, interrupted by the occasional lanterns hidden in the dense foliage.

The group of the "offended and humiliated " was already there: four silhouettes were darkening under one of the trees. After the formalities, the seconds again proposed reconciliation, but this time a firm "No" was given by both of them. The duelists stood with their backs to each other and started to move apart. They stopped exactly at the twenty-fifth step. Then the seconds, having made sure that the duelists were ready, would give the command, and it would be possible to turn around and shoot.

Alex had a plan: fall sharply to his knees in a U-turn and open fire while holding the blaster in both hands. As he found out, such a maneuver was not forbidden by the dueling code.

His hands began to shake slightly again, and the handle of his blaster, wet with sweat, slid slightly. Alex quickly wiped his hand on his pant leg and exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself... And then the command sounded:

"Fi...!

Alex started to turn around while still in the middle of the command, dropping to his knee, when suddenly something stung him hard in the shoulder, and an unbearable pain flared up in his head.

So fast... he managed to think, seeing the sidewalk rushing toward him.

And then darkness fell.

* * *