“Great Lady,” said Iaachus.
“Loyal servitor,” said Atalana, empress mother.
“It seems,” said he, “that the throne is safe, if but for a time.”
“The schemes of the plotter and pretender, Julian, he of the despicable Aureliani, he with wicked designs upon the throne, have been foiled?”
“One may hope so,” said Iaachus, “at least for the time.”
The empress mother, her frail body tiny amidst the cushions of the throne in her private audience chamber, leaned forward, fixing her small eyes on the lean, narrow-visaged, sable-attired courtier. “Recount to me, dear Iaachus,” said she, “the manner of the falling out of these matters.”
“Some months ago,” said Iaachus, “on a summer world, you will remember that the secret traitor, Julian, approached the throne, petitioning a commission for the barbarian, Ottonius. We deemed it dubious policy at the time to deny so seemingly innocent and trivial a request by one of his importance, one kin even to the mighty emperor. A refusal might have generated curiosity amongst the worlds. Too, such a refusal might have signaled to the schemer that his machinations had been sounded, with the consequence that he might have become even subtler, and more on his guard. Too, he is known amongst the worlds, and respected. To refuse, let alone topple, so popular a figure might engage speculations, even repercussions, inimical to the throne. Accordingly, we granted the commission, pretending not to discern its more remote import, and its place in his plans. We arranged that the commission for the barbarian would be delivered, as though in good faith, to him at his villa on Vellmer, where the barbarian was his guest. We planned carefully, if unsuccessfully. We assigned an agent, Tuvo Ausonius, a civil servant, from Miton, to seemingly transmit the document, it putatively enclosed in a latched case, to be opened by dialing a combination. The case, of course, actually housed an explosive device, which would fire shortly after the dialing of the combination. Julian and the barbarian, Ottonius, would presumably open the case. It was made clear to the agent that it was to be opened only in their presence. We also dispatched an imperial delegation to Vellmer, suitably and officially, that all would be in order, bearing the actual document bestowing the commission. The delegation was to arrive after the detonation of the explosive device, and would then, in seeming surprise, sorrow, and disappointment, return with the then-meaningless document. We anticipated the possibility, of course, that the agent, or the device, might fail us. Accordingly, the delegation, well armed and trained, was to assault the villa and destroy it. Indeed, upon the detonation of the device, the matter was to be assured by an air strike. As it turned out the device, though detonated, failed of its objective, its intended victims having withdrawn in time. Similarly, the air strike failed, given the shielding of the villa, and its weaponry. As planned, given the contingency, the delegation attacked the villa, which attack was withstood. Indeed, not one member of the delegation survived.”
“I am apprised of these matters, dear counselor,” said the empress mother.
“It is germane that I recount them,” said Iaachus, “that you may the better appreciate certain events which ensued, events consequent upon plans so secret that I did little more than allude to them in your presence.”
“Who is to be more in your confidence than I?” she asked, sharply.
“None surely, great lady,” he said, bowing, “but private audiences prompt speculation, and I hesitated to speak openly, even in the presence of the emperor himself.”
“He is in his quarters, playing with his blocks and soldiers,” said the empress mother.
“Or before his beloved sisters, the exalted, beauteous princesses, Viviana and Alacida,” he said.
“That was wise of you,” she said. “Both are vain, frivolous, shallow creatures. They concern themselves with jewels and clothes, entertainments and amusements. They could no more hold a secret than a sieve water. Would they had been men, stern of thought, wise in counsel, tenacious and far-seeing, with metal in their blood, to defend and expand the borders of the empire!”
“There is the emperor,” said Iaachus.
“Yes,” said the empress mother, “there is the emperor.”
“I fear,” said Iaachus, “that the conspirator, Julian, hopes to wed the fair Viviana or Alacida, that he might one day be positioned for the throne.”
“The emperor is young,” said the empress mother.
“At his age,” said Iaachus, “some have led armies, and commanded fleets.”
“The emperor amuses himself with other toys,” she said.
“Few emperors have died in battle,” said Iaachus. “Most have met their ends within the walls of palaces.”
“Tasters are employed,” said the empress mother. “Physicians are in attendance.”
“A rush in the darkness, a knife to the heart,” said Iaachus, “renders useless the precautions of the subtlest taster, the ministrations of the most devoted physician.”
“Who can I trust but you, noble Iaachus?” said the empress mother, wearily.
“Would that either Viviana or Alacida had the brilliance, the shrewdness, the iron, the courage of Atalana!” exclaimed Iaachus.
“But they do not,” said the empress mother. “Would that I had been a man!”
“There would have been an emperor!” said Iaachus.
“Do not flatter a weak, tired, old woman,” said Atalana.
“I but speak the patent truth,” said Iaachus.
“Is there no cure for the emperor?” said Atalana.
“The emperor is beloved throughout the thousand worlds,” said Iaachus. “Glory to him!”
“Yes, glory to the emperor,” said the empress mother, wearily, “while the empire totters.”
“Despite your possible reservations with respect to the nature and character of your daughters, the beauteous Viviana and Alacida, who share much of your own beauty,” said Iaachus, “you must recognize their enormous political importance. A marriage to either would much abet the ambitions of treasonous Julian.”
“Or the ambitions of any other,” said Atalana.
“I spoke, of course, of our foe, Julian,” said Iaachus.
“I would have them strangled first,” said the empress mother.
“I see,” said the Arbiter of Protocol.
“You are valuable in your place,” said the empress mother. “See that you keep it.”
“Think not ill of me, great lady,” said Iaachus. “Do not misunderstand me. I meant nothing. I do not aspire to heights. My only ambition is to serve you, humbly, and to the best of my poor ability.”
“Forgive an old woman,” said Atalana. “How suspicious and ungrateful she is! What stouter defense of the throne has she than noble Iaachus?”
Iaachus bowed.
“Do you truly think I am beautiful?” she asked. She inadvertently touched her cheek, opening a tiny crack in the powder caked there.
“From whence, otherwise,” asked Iaachus, “could fair Viviana and Alacida have derived their remarkable beauty, so close to, and yet so far from, yours?”
“You are a scoundrel, counselor,” smiled Atalana.
“I but speak the patent truth,” he said.
“You set plans in motion without my consent,” she said.
“But to achieve ends congruent with your hopes,” he said.
“I know only that you feared some alliance of Julian with barbarous forces and hoped, by some secret measures, to preclude their success.”
“The empire is stable, safe, and eternal,” said Iaachus, “but walls crumble, forces dwindle, fuel grows short, ammunition low, outposts are raided, borders are threatened, worlds with hostile intent loom.”
“You failed once to foil Julian,” said Atalana, “on Vellmer. Have you failed, again?”
“Others failed there, not I,” said Iaachus.
“Have others again failed?” asked the empress mother.
“No,” said Iaachus. “We have been successful. Julian sent his minion, the barbarian, Ottonius, to Tangara, to recruit dangerous tribesmen by means of which to prosecute his plans. One man might gather ten, and ten a hundred, and a hundred a thousand, and a thousand untold numbers.”
The empress mother shuddered.
“Julian intends to either ascend the throne,” said Iaachus, “or destroy the empire.”
“He must be stopped!” cried the empress mother. “Have him killed!”
“He is known, and important, and respected,” said Iaachus. “That would be dangerous. Few know him as do we. Most deem him a patriot. Many would hope he would ascend the throne.”
“Kill him,” said Atalana.
“We must be careful,” said Iaachus.
“You tried to kill him on Vellmer,” said the empress mother.
“Yes,” said Iaachus, “on far Vellmer, in a remote villa, not in the midst of troops.”
“What is to be done?”
“Nothing must be obvious,” said Iaachus. “His murder might precipitate riots, an uprising, a revolution on some worlds. It might serve even as a pretext for secession.”
“Let him be exposed to a lethal infection,” said the empress mother. “Let a contagion be devised, which might rack planets. Let plagues be engineered. He perishes then, one victim amongst countless others, provoking no suspicion.”
“Plagues might do to punish troublesome worlds,” said Iaachus, “but there is little point in expending an ocean of poison when but a single drop is needed.”
“But a single drop might provoke suspicion?” said Atalana.
“I fear so,” said Iaachus.
“Let an accident be arranged,” said the empress mother.
“I have arranged things differently,” said the Arbiter of Protocol. “An indirect blow, which does not seem a blow, may strike most deeply. An unarmed man amongst armed men is little to be feared.”
“I do not understand,” said the empress mother.
“We remove the means from Julian and Julian is without means.”
“Dear Iaachus?” said the empress mother.
“Julian’s plans clearly involve the enlistment of barbarians, preferably in large, expanding numbers, and this enlistment, as he envisions it, begins with, and is contingent on, the services of the barbarian, Ottonius.”
“I see now,” said the empress mother, “why you have requested this unusual private audience.”
“To report, of course, great lady,” said Iaachus, “now that the thing is done and the utmost secrecy is no longer required.”
“You have slain the barbarian captain, Ottonius,” she said.
“In a way most natural, and most unlikely to provoke suspicion, in a venue far from civilization, and by means of an instrument most subtle and suitable, a poisoned blade in the privacy of a chamber, wielded by an agent most unlikely to be suspected, a free woman posing as a mere female slave.”
“He reaches out, the lusting brute, and discovers that he has in his arms not a warm, quivering, yielding, moaning, meaningless vessel of pleasure, but death.”
“Yes,” said Iaachus.
“Where could a free woman be found to risk this?” she asked.
“One was found,” he said.
“Some baggage of the humiliori?” she said.
“No,” he said, “a fallen patrician, even of the senatorial class.”
“Interesting,” said the empress mother.
“Doubtless she expected to be extracted safely and richly rewarded,” she said.
“Certainly,” said Iaachus.
“You must beware,” she said. “Such a woman would know much. Under fearsome interrogation, she might incriminate others. She might, too, for greater treasure, threaten betrayal, threaten exposure.”
“Fear not,” said Iaachus. “It was never intended that she be extracted safely, nor intended that she be rewarded, in the least.”
“You left her to her fate?”
“Of course.”
“You are a cunning rascal,” she said. “But I am troubled.”
“How so, great lady?” asked the Arbiter of Protocol.
“It seems a shame to use a free woman where a slave would do.”
“She thought herself free, to be sure,” said the Arbiter of Protocol, “but, unbeknownst to herself, she had been enslaved.”
“Excellent,” said the empress mother, “the stupid little fool, a slave and not knowing it!”
“Many women,” said Iaachus, “for example, by imperial listings, enslavement proscriptions, personal edicts, and such, have been made slaves without their knowledge. They go about their lives as usual, suspecting nothing, until they are seized, and find the collar on their necks.”
“You are sure this delicate matter has been accomplished successfully?” asked the empress mother.
“Yes,” said Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol. “Captain Phidias, captain of the Narcona, which bore the barbarian to Tangara, and his two colleagues, two of his officers, officers Lysis and Corelius, have assured me on the matter.”
“Excellent,” said the empress mother.