CHAPTER NINE

"I've never been one to kill the messenger bearing bad news," the Eternal Emperor said.

"Yessir," Sten said.

"In this case, however," the Emperor continued, "it's a good thing I've known you such a long time."

''Yessir,'' Sten said.

"You get the point that I am not pleased?"

"I do, Your Majesty," Sten said. "Absolutely… sir."

The holo image of the Emperor wavered as Sten's boss crossed to the antique drinks tray in his study and poured himself two fingers of Scotch.

"You have something to drink there?" the Emperor asked a bit absently.

"Yessir," Sten said. "I thought it best to haul along my own supplies." He took the hint, hooked a bottle of Scotch off the desk of the previous ambassador, and poured himself a drink.

The Emperor mock-toasted: "I'd say confusion to my enemies—but if they get any more confused we'll all go into the drakh head first."

He drank anyway. Sten followed suit.

"You know there's no way I can keep this from getting out?" the Emperor said. Sten didn't answer. It had not really been a question.

"There's already reports in the media hinting at a building crisis in the Altaics. Wait'll they find out how bad things really are.'' The Emperor refilled his glass, thinking. "What really hurts is I've got some crucial agreements in the works. Agreements hinging on strong confidence in the Empire. The slightest sign of a hole in the structure I've rebuilt is going to put those agreements into decaying orbits. And… when one fails… then a lot of other things come into doubt."

Sten sighed. "I wish there were some way I could paint a more hopeful picture, Your Majesty," he said. "But this is probably the stickiest assignment I've ever handled for you. And it's not really begun."

"I'm sensible of that, Sten," the Emperor said. "The Khaqan just picked a lousy time to die." He sipped his drink. "You are sure someone didn't help him along?"

"I've gone over all the reports," Sten said. "And it's pretty clear how and why he died. It was an aneurysm. An artery blew a cork. The only thing I 'm not sure of is the circumstances.'' Sten was thinking of Menynder's claim about a dinner party honoring the Khaqan. "Personally, I don't think it matters that much. If there was some kind of conspiracy in the works… well, from what I've seen it wouldn't be all that unusual."

"I agree," the Emperor said. "In fact, if there was no sign of a conspiracy, I'd be damned suspicious. Fine. Let's leave the circumstances alone—for the time being."

"Yessir," Sten said.

"What we have to do," the Emperor said, "is get this thing under control fast. If the whole Empire is going to be watching, I don't want anyone to think I'm going to be less than firm about this. There are going to be some who'll say I screwed up. There are going to be others who'll say I've lost my moves… since I got back. And then there'll be those who are just hoping I've gotten soft so they can stir up trouble. So, with that in mind, I want to set the tone of how to handle things right from the start…

"Which is this: If anybody moves we don't like, smack them down. We install a new government. Immediately. With my full support. Once this is done, there will be no objections. Not in my earshot, anyway. And, if there are loud or violent quarrels with my decision in the Altaics, then I want them silenced. Fast. With whatever it takes. I will suffer no humiliation in this!" Slam went the Emperor's hand on his desk. Even through the holo speakers it sounded like a shot.

Abruptly the Emperor stopped steaming and gave Sten a thin, unfelt smile. "I want to be damned sure both my enemies and my friends know I will not be fooled with."

"Yessir. I… agree, sir…"

"Do I hear a silent 'but' in your agreement?"

"Not with your overall point, Your Majesty. Not at all. This is no time to show hesitancy. However, when you briefed me on this place, you weren't exaggerating about how contrary these people are. Even if we use a big hammer to nail this together, I think we'll still need to be real careful how it goes together."

Sten hesitated, trying to read the Emperor's face. It was blank. But not necessarily angry blank.

"Go ahead," the Emperor said.

"As you know, sir, I've talked to all the leaders—at least the beings who say they are the leaders. Until I get some better analyses, based on immediate HUMINT, I'll just trust in my instincts: This thing can split a lot more than four ways. Clot, it already has.

When I arrived two Jochi factions were firing on each other at the spaceport."

"Listen to those instincts," the Emperor said.

"Soon as I showed up," Sten continued, "all of these faction leaders, human and ET, clawed their way to the embassy, each one begging to be made the new honcho. I made them wait for official invitations. Called them in one by one."

"And took your good time about it, too," the Emperor said. "Made them cool their heels and ponder their sins against me. I like how that was handled."

"Thank you, sir," Sten said. "Frankly, now that this place has come apart once, I'm real doubtful it can be put back together again. Not the way it was before.

"They're all sitting in their neighborhoods now, sir. And on their home worlds, as well—with nothing to distract them but their persona] problems. Picking over wounds.

Thinking things can somehow be different. And in this case, sir, just the thinking might make it so. Of course, each of these beings sees some kind of personal vision of paradise for his own group. Personally, I think it's going to be sheer hell around here for a long, long time.''

"Unless we fix it," the Emperor said.

"Unless we fix it, sir," Sten agreed.

"To begin with," the Emperor said, "I'm giving you a battalion of Imperial Guards.

That ought to help make the glue stick."

Sten joked. "So much… sir? I was hoping for maybe one Mantis Section. If we stay a little lower profile, and if things don't work out… we take less blame. Besides, sir, I really believe I can do better with scalpels than a hammer.''

"I can't take that chance," the Emperor said. "You're getting a battalion. I'm already a target of ridicule. Fine. I'll be a big damned one. Also, I have another reason."

"Yessir," Sten said.

"Any other thoughts?" the Emperor asked.

"Yessir. Out of this whole sorry lot, I do have one pretty good candidate to take over.

If only temporarily."

"Who?" The single word had a guarded edge to it. Sten didn't realize this, however, until later.

"Menynder, sir. The Tork. He's a tricky old buzzard. But he's the one being everybody seems to respect. His enemies list is real short. And I think he could get people to listen long enough for things to take hold. Pick up their own momentum."

"Good choice," the Emperor said. "Except… like you said, he's probably just a temporary solution. I have a permanent fix in mind.'' He took a casual sip of scotch.

"The man's name is Iskra. Dr. Iskra. He's a Jochian."

Sten furrowed his brow. He'd heard it. Vaguely. Enough to know Iskra commanded a great deal of respect. But Sten was so new on the ground that he would just have to take the Emperor's word on Dr. Iskra's sterling qualities.

"I've already spoken to him," the Emperor said. "One of my ships is picking him up now. He should be with you in a few cycles. He's the other reason I'm sending a battalion of guards. Dr. Iskra asked for them. He'll use them as personal security. At first."

"Very good, sir," Sten said. His antennae for trouble gave a bit of a quiver over Iskra's request for the troops before he'd even seen the Altaics and evaluated the current situation. He pushed the worry to the back. But he didn't lock it away.

Also, the only thing that mattered was that this whole thing worked. Sten had picked up exactly none of the Imperial Foreign Office's traditional bad habits, such as placing ego in front of solution.

"Anything else?" the Emperor asked. He seemed restless, anxious to be on to other things.

"No sir."

"Then… until your next report…" The Emperor leaned forward to touch a button on his desk.

But as the holo image of Sten in the Jochi embassy chamber thinned, the Emperor quickly checked the expression on Sten's face. It was properly respectful. And then Sten was gone.

The Eternal Emperor absently picked up his drink and sipped, deep in thought.

Total concentration was one of the many abilities he had fine-tuned over his many centuries. He gave the subject of Sten a full five seconds of that concentration.

Was he loyal? Without question. In the Emperor's absence, Sten had been the architect of the plan to depose the privy council. The keystone of the alliance he had created was absolute commitment to the Emperor's memory.

Yes, Sten was loyal. And the Emperor had given him many honors. But few beings realized just how great a hero Sten was.

For perhaps the first time, the Emperor was aware that he was fortunate Sten was on his side. For some reason, the thought was not entirely comforting.

The Emperor tucked that nugget of discomfort away. Later, he would fit it into the larger puzzle. He pulled his mind back from its task.

There was another man whose assistance he required. Of the very silent—and deadly—variety. Yes. He must take no chances in this Altaic matter. No chances at all.