Chapter 7

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The large, glowing projection of the galaxy, riddled with colored sectors, blinked out, and the "conference room" was once again in darkness, leaving only a brightly lit long table of slightly rough gray metal and nine men in dazzling white admiral uniforms seated around them in high armchairs.

"So, gentlemen, no later than the end of the decade, I await your suggestions." The emperor ended the meeting. The instant communication went off, and the five present scattered golden sparks. Those that proved tangible headed for the exit, escorted by the master of the office. Soon the farewells were over, and the large wooden door closed, cutting off the brightly lit corridor and the guardsmen from the personal guard.

"Is there anything left?" Asked the emperor to the aide-de-camp, who kept silent

"Stack-Captain Estrem." The adjutant replied, not looking at the infoblock. "Waiting for your audience."

"Ah, checking of Lord Cassard..." He hummed, settling back in his chair. "Call him in. And summon Aight, too. Let's see what he has to say."

The adjutant nodded silently, and collecting the infoblocks left on the table, slipped out of the office, and soon the door opened again in front of a short brunette in a black security uniform. He had an unexpectedly thin face, elongated with sunken cheeks and light brown eyes, in which there was something feline, the kind of cats that like to play with their prey.

As he entered, he ducked reflexively as if afraid of hitting his head. The low ceilings of the "conference room," with their black color and the shrouding semi-darkness, seemed even lower, overhanging like a crushing press.

After the captain, the emperor's aide slipped into the study and immediately retreated to the side, practically disappearing into one of the dark corners.

"Your Majesty." The captain bowed his head again, pulling himself up at attention, which was somewhat awkward because of the two infoblocks he was holding.

"Come in, come in," the Emperor impatiently beckoned him with his hand and pointed to one of the chairs. "Have a seat. Will you please me with something interesting?"

"Thank you." Captain Estrem sat down opposite and held out one infoblock to the emperor. "There are a few curious points, Your Majesty. But they are rather curiosities. The analysis so far hasn't shown anything directly incriminating or just 'interesting' from a professional point of view. But there are still quite a few gaps in the dossier. Before the recent events on Tallana and Cassard, the prince was somewhat out of the focus of our sectoral control."

The emperor took the infoblock, immersed himself in the reading, and asked without raising his eyes from the screen. "And what would you emphasize?"

"Prince Cassard, indeed, has changed greatly since the poisoning and loss of memory." Answered the captain and added after a short pause. "Well, the assassination attempt must have played an equally important role. He doesn't behave as you'd expect from a sovereign prince, but not because he's up to something. It's because of the trauma. And as it seemed to me from personal experience, this change creates a kind of aura of suspicion around the prince. During communication, there is a sense that he is not telling you something. He does sometimes miss the point, but for the most part, he simply has nothing to say.

"Did you have any personal contact with him?"

"Had no honor. I judge by the records."

"Well, the record is a twisted matter, you should know..." The Emperor muttered. "I see you have discovered the Prince's 'guidance'?

"Exactly, Your Majesty."

"And what's he got there? I guess weapons skills and languages?"

"Only languages, or rather one, native. The prince suffered from dyslexia as a child. This is an officially made induced reaction, but we confirmed its existence on two levels. And there are a few oddities there." Added Captain Estrem and raised his infoblock to his eyes and read, "During the flight, the object showed a striking tendency to increase the length of the day, primarily increasing the time spent in a state of fatigue."

"As you must know, Your Majesty, in a state of fatigue or intoxication, controllers of behavior are depressed in the first place, and such behavior by the prince may be a subconscious attempt to throw off some kind of control or restriction. And this is certainly a circumstantial sign." The captain hastily added, seeing the question in the emperor's eyes. "There has been no opportunity for a detailed analysis of the thought flow."

The Emperor indefinitely hummed again, left the infoblock, and asked:

"Are these all curious moments?"

"No, not at all, Your Majesty." The captain fussed somewhat, looking for something in his infoblock. "There are two entries, but the analysis machine thought the material was important, and I've included them in the report. I can run the projection, but I think you would be more comfortable with..."

"Connect the captain's infoblock, and begin visual record playback." The emperor commanded in a neutral voice.

A large holo-screen began to form behind the emperor, and his majesty spun around in his chair, turning his back to the captain.

The tape showed an excited crowd of drunken youth being purposefully led by a brown-jacketed speaker standing on an overturned forklift. The cameraman finished filming the crowd and took a close-up look at the "leader's" face. A little above average height, with dark brown hair, he really looked like Prince Cassard, and at the bottom appeared the text, obviously added later - "Talana, sixth transit station, recorded by rebels."

"However..." The Emperor grinned strangely. "Is that Prince Cassard?" He asked without turning around. "He looked rather like..."

"Unfortunately, Your Majesty, it is probably not Prince Cassard. This recording, due to its compromising contents, has been particularly scrutinized. Specialists believe it is authentic and not synthesized, but in their opinion, the man on the tape is not Prince Cassard. A comparison with previous recordings of Prince Cassard's public speeches revealed that the manner of speech, the micro-movements of the eyes and hands are not the same."

"Yes?" The emperor gestured to stop the replay and turned to the captain. "Maybe he was in a state of affect or under disguise?"

"It is quite possible, Your Majesty. But, unfortunately, at the time of the events on Tallana, he was in his castle on Copeira, with his fiancée Lady Valerie Bellar, as several records confirm, most likely also authentic."

"If the records there and there are authentic, then who is it?"

"A clone, or, more likely, a pheno-twin. Tallana is a very populous planet, and with a certain amount of persistence, finding a doppelganger is possible."

The emperor looked at the captain with genuine curiosity:

"And what is the fate of this "pheno-twin"?"

"Pheno-twin" sounded with some sneer, and the captain clearly hesitated:

"Um... Tracks get lost." He admitted. "Missing at Tallana Transit Station Six, right where the recording was made, during a fight with a group of Sororitas. There's a suggestion he was captured by them."

"With a group of Sororitas?" His Majesty did not bother to hide the obvious surprise in his voice.

"There is no direct evidence. But a well-coordinated group in heavy scarlet armor went through the terrorist posts like a knife through butter."

"Interesting, interesting. And what do you think they were doing at a station captured by terrorists?"

"It is not known. An official request has been sent to the Order's representatives, but no answer has been received yet. All we can say is that they landed in two Aegis-type yachts, paralyzed or isolated the resisters, put the navigation computer under control, and left the station."

"Admirable impudence." Said the emperor. I couldn't tell from his tone whether he was amused or angry. "We'll have to contact the Order. We can't leave it like that." He remarked aloud. "Let's see what else you've got..."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

On the second record, there was no doubt Prince Cassard, and next to him at a small table sat Princess Pell. They looked bored, and their leisurely conversation was clearly about nothing to do, and as you might expect from people of their circle, it was about politics anyway. A line at the bottom of the screen said the recording was made during the arrival ceremony.

The Emperor watched the record with approving interest, and only the appearance on the screen of people from the Security Service made him frown:

"And in whose interest was this recording made?" He asked, with a wave of his hand, stopping the playback.

"It was produced by Palace Security."

"I see..." The Emperor stretched and drummed his fingers on the armrest and turned to the Captain. "Well, that's it?"

"Unfortunately, for now, Your Majesty, but if you authorize more direct observation, I'm sure we can gather much more information."

"Absolutely not." There was a clang of metal in the emperor's voice and his palm cut the air cutting off any possible objections. "Only general analytical work." And he added in an already calm tone. "Right now, I don't need another political scandal with the Great Houses. Thank you, captain, you are dismissed."

Even before the door closed behind the captain, a short man in a black uniform without insignia stepped out of the wall of the office and headed for the nearest chair. He was short, thin but evidently wiry, with sharp features and bright, curious gray eyes. He resembled the Emperor in some way and could have been mistaken for a younger, skinnier brother.

"Did you hear that?" Without turning around, the emperor tossed, coming out from behind the holo vail. "A group of sororitas in red armor, a pheno twin. Ha... What crap they try to feed me from time to time."

"Well, Your Majesty, I don't think it's out of malice, more out of ignorance." He sat back in his chair and slumped back in it, taking a cigarette case out of his pocket. "And the assumption seems quite sound. I would be the first to think of them. The Fire Throne is not indifferent to the Cassard clan. Then, I'd have thought, really, that it was a bit too clean for the sororitas and not enough casualties." He confessed, taking out two cigarettes and handing one to the emperor. "But after all, it's me. The captain, I could make a bet, he's never seen a sororitas alive. Of course, if I were him, continuing to think about the sororitas, I'd ask for flow control data. Let's say the records on Tallana were destroyed by rebels. So we take all the neighboring systems, feed them to the analysis machine, and... Oh, my God! Three Aegis left Copeira in a coordinated jump to Tallana, not an uncommon event. Two of them came back just in time for us, and where did they..."

"Aight." The Emperor interrupted the flow, taking out his lighter. "If you're getting to that age where you want to share your experiences, I can give you a series of lectures at the SS Academy.

"No need." Aight waved it off faintly, lighting a cigarette from the lighter he'd held out and letting out a puff of smoke. "I can't do the series. Once or twice to ruffle feathers in front of cute students..."

"All right." Again the Emperor interrupted him with a weary hand. "Do you have anything to add to the Captain's report?"

"I don't know. I just got here. I might have missed something."

"Take a look." The emperor pronounced, pushing the infoblock toward his interlocutor. "There's even a profile on the prince: 'Sociable, easy to get along with people. Lies easily without thinking. He has a mobile mind. Has a weakness for the female sex." The emperor quoted from memory and added, without hiding his sarcasm. "Surprisingly accurate in describing about half of those who arrive on the onstum."

"But it's true. He does lie a lot." Said Aight, taking in the report with interest. "And indeed a sort of 'heart-collector,' at least he was. So far, the Prince has maintained his atypical chastity. No contact for the entire flight, but he drools occasionally."

"Keeps the loyalty?"

"Which one of the two?" Aight smirked. "No, danarii vs. cred, he fears something, and by a mighty effort of will, he restrains himself. And that's with a linear payo in the room servants. That's self-control, huh?"

"And how did that occur to you?" The Emperor coldly inquired, glancing disapprovingly at his companion, putting his cigarette in the ashtray. "I told you not to provoke."

"And I had nothing to do with it at all, Your Majesty. This is the result of a tumultuous intrigue within the Palace Service and their decision. We did not interfere, and as far as I know, neither did the Palace Security Service. Officially, for the prince was chosen the best of the best. No wonder payo was among them. Not officially, the Palace Service, knowing the reputation of the prince, decided that if he would not get off the maid, it would be easier for all. But in reality, there was a real battle for the place, and payo just came out the winner."

"Is this Liora?"

"Liora." Nodded Aight. "And let me tell you right off the bat, I don't know if it was her personal choice or if she was asked to seduce the prince by a person we both know, known for her recklessness in her choice of means. And no one knows."

"Not the palace, but some kind of brothel." The emperor grumbled angrily, leaning back in his chair and philosophically letting out a puff of smoke into the canopy that was lost in the darkness.

The interlocutor, who was immersed in the report of the Security Service, ignored this rhetorical remark, and they smoked in complete silence for a few more minutes.

"Boring." Finally declared Aight, tossing the infoblock aside. "Nothing interesting."

"And you?"

"And everything's bad for me." He admitted without any enthusiasm. And began to report, this time in a more formal tone:

"All tissue samples taken from the object, at the gene, structural, and field level coincide with the samples of Prince Cassard. A comparison of bone structures was not carried out. Data of hardware observation allows with high probability to assume that at a physical level, the object really is Prince Cassard. Observations of three different adepts indicate the presence of high resistance diagnosed by the Inquisition..."

"Morir asked to delay the appointment of Lord Cassard." The Emperor interrupted the report. "What didn't he like? In his department, he is cleaner than a Synths priest."

"He has ... doubts." Aight wrinkled his nose. "So did the initiator of the inspection. He found the prince's way of measuring time suspicious."

"Wonderful. And because of that, he offers to hold the domain owner of the strongest of the Great Houses of the Tail Sector in the hallway?"

"Yes." Without enthusiasm, Aight nodded. "I talked to him, but he was stubborn."

"He's generally been stubborn in all the wrong places lately." Clearly, the Emperor made a mental note and waved his hand at Aught again. "All right, go on."

Though physically, it's probably Lord Cassard," he continued. "Behaviorally, it's a very different personality. The micromotor patterns, the turns of speech, and the established habits don't match.

"At all?"

"Practically, yes. For example, all previous sources noted the prince's love of wine and some stimulants. Nothing now, completely dry. I've already mentioned the women. And he speaks strangely from time to time, out of order. Strange turns of phrase slip through. But to his credit, rarely. That's what Morir reacted to. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was under control, a guise or a drug-induced hypnosis."

"And it's not like that?"

"Yes. We analyzed the composition of the prince's feces..."

"Well, such details could have been spared." The Emperor rolled his eyes.

"... and found the presence of traces of only one drug. Fenote. A fairly strong neurostimulator, however, is pure and without detectable side effects. Which we found was prescribed to him after he was poisoned. However, the use of Fenote, although frequent, is not systematic, which may indicate an emerging psychiatric addiction."

"All right with the chemistry, but how can you be sure about the guidance?"

"Pure coincidence." Staring up at the ceiling, muttered Aight. "His Lordship walked by the directional neural antenna several times, quite by accident, and by someone else's mistake, the device was turned on..."

"If the Fyronians find out about this and demand your head on a platter, I will only ask what color should the platter be."

"Well..." Aight brushed it off carelessly. "That's how we live. Head on a platter is almost an occupational disease in our business."

"What did you find out?"

"Almost nothing. There is not enough data to decipher flags and thought images. He practically does not think with a mental speech in the external background. It's just images and charts, maybe he was taught on purpose, or maybe it's just natural. But if there had been such an induction there, we would have noticed it for sure. And there's nothing there except a basic linguistic one. Which leads to certain thoughts..."

"Amnesia, strange turns of phrase, complex mental flow, and high resistance to the influence of adepts." The emperor listed, looking thoughtfully at his interlocutor. "A familiar pattern. What do the Sororitas say?"

"What can they say." Aihgt shrugged his shoulders with a sour expression. "They say Blessed by the Flames."

"Is that what Tanouf says?" Clarified the emperor, "she's only met him a short time ago. Hasn't she?"

"That's right. She met with him the day the Benefactor Teesshire died."

At the mention of this name, the emperor wrinkled his nose like a severe migraine but said nothing, only taking a couple of particularly deep puffs of his new cigarette.

"You mean Tanouf said he was blessed?" Finally, the emperor said after a long pause

His interlocutor only nodded silently. The emperor rose vigorously and began to walk impatiently around the table, clearly thinking about something.

For a few minutes, there was silence in the office, broken only by the sound of footsteps on the carpet.

"And let's not, let's not argue with the clergy about the nature of the divine." Finally, the emperor suggested with a smirk. "Blessed is blessed," he said, "they know best."

He stopped at his desk and pressed the communicator button on his chair:

"Warn Lord Cassard's attendant that I am ready to accept him for an appointment."

"He's left a trail on Tallana. It's the captain who hasn't figured it out, but Morir is digging under the prince, and he'll find it sooner rather than later."

"it's not good."

"Not good." Aight agreed, glowering in his chair and shrugging his shoulders, he added lazily. "The Lord Inquisitor wouldn't miss this for the world.

The emperor made another circle around the table and apparently having decided something, stopped near the chair of his interlocutor:

"I think I'm going to put a reprimand on you." He pronounced, glancing slyly at Aitht.

"A reprimand?" He stretched out lazily. "For what?"

"You'll let it leak."

"A leak?" Aight perked up with interest. "To whom?"

"I thought there was no point in delaying the inevitable..." The emperor smiled. "Since Morir is so principled about Prince Cassard, maybe he's reckless enough to act outside the law. Let's let him make that mistake. And if he does make it, it can be used later in..." The emperor's smile grew considerably darker, "For disciplinary purposes."

"Then I'll be right back." Said Aight rising, clearly liking the idea. "By the way, we've been enriched with a new definition of tyranny."

"Yes." The emperor grinned. "At the last Council meeting, I saw the unusual appeal of the idea of 'silent people taking everyone away in the morning'. I wonder... I wonder what he's comparing it to," He explained, picking up the infoblock again and running the record..... "He clearly has a complete image in his head."

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