"Well, I suppose it had to happen," he said. "Although I wish we could think of something more... active to do than just running."
"First we run," Haines reminded him. "Then we hide. We'll have all the time in the world to figure out paybacks."
She crossed to a chest, opened it, and took out two personal "chutes"—steady-drain McLean packs with harness that would drop an average-weight human safely from any distance up to two kilometers before the batteries went dry.
When the houseboat hit about four klicks altitude, they'd go out the door and free-fall half the distance to the ground, targets too tiny—she hoped—to be picked up by Imperial sensors. Sam'l was the one who'd taught her that sport.
Time enough for paybacks. Yes. With luck there would be, she thought, but didn't say it aloud as she helped Sam'l into his rig.
Even now, even in the darkest part of the night, the tower still was a muted rainbow at the end of the gorge.
Inside, Marr and Senn slept uneasily, curled around each other. They looked almost the same age as they had been years earlier, when they were the Imperial caterers and Sten a young captain, in charge of the Emperor's Gurkha bodyguard. Perhaps their fur had darkened slightly, to a deeper gold. But nothing else had changed. The two Milchen, financially stable in their retirement, still loved beauty and love itself. The lovers were not only Sten's friends, although it had been years since they had seen him, but they had thrown the Grand Party after which Haines and Sten had become lovers.
Marr suddenly woke. Sat up. Senn whistled questioningly, huge eyes blinking.
"It was but a dream."
"No. A gravcar. Coming up the valley."
"I see nothing. You were just dreaming."
"No. There. Look. It's coming without lights."
"Oh dear. I feel those fingers touching my soul. Cold. Cold. At night, without lights. If it stops, we do not answer."
Marr didn't respond.
"I said, we do not answer. In these times, with the Emperor not as he was, only a fool goes to the door after midnight. Those who move by night are not friends."
Silence. The gravcar had stopped outside.
"The cold is stronger. Don't you feel it?"
"I do."
"The bell. Who is it?"
"I don't know."
"Don't turn on the lights. Maybe they will go away."
Marr's slender hand moved through the air, and, outside, four single beams marked the parking area.
"You fool," Senn snapped. "Now they know. Who are they?"
Marr peered out. ‘Two. They are human. One is a man. The other a woman. I don't know the man... the woman looks familiar."
"Yes. She does. Marr. She is carrying a gun. Turn out the light."
"I know her," Marr announced. "She is that policeperson. She called me on some vague pretense just days ago. I wondered."
"Which police... oh. Haines."
"Yes. The one who loved Sten."
"Then she is a fugitive. The Emperor must want to question anyone who knew him. And she must know something, or else she would not flee."
"Senn. Think. Would you not run from that horrid Poyndex? The one who personally murdered Mahoney?"
"Turn out the lights. Come back to bed. We do not play human politics.
"See? Now they are turning away. Someone else will take them in."
Marr did not answer. He thought he could hear the crunch of footsteps outside and below, in the parking area.
"I once was told," he said slowly, "by a human, that if he was ever given the choice of betraying a friend or betraying his country, he hoped to be courageous enough to be a traitor."
The two leaned close to each other, their antennae twining. Senn pulled back.
"All right," he said. "But don't try to talk to me about loyalty and all those other complicated human emotions. You just want to have houseguests to cook for again."
His hand moved in a semicircle.
And suddenly the tower of light glowed in full life, welcoming Haines and Sam'l.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ONCE AGAIN THE Eternal Emperor's chambers were jammed, the air freshers working overtime as he barked orders to the flowing stream of staff members.
"Avri."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"What's the status on the K-B-N-S-O operation?"
"Not good, sir. I've got our best spin doctors working on it But nobody's buying our angle."
"Which is?"
"That it was a quote tragic accident end quote triggered by Sten's attack on the station. That we were merely trying to quote protect the innocent civilians end quote."
"Change ‘innocent civilians' to attempting to 'limit collateral damage.‘ "
"Thank you, sir."
"Then I want you to set a backfire."
"Like what, sir?"
"Easy. The airwaves belong to the Empire. Which means me. Inform them I'll yank their licenses to lie if they don't start telling more of mine."
"Yessir..."
"You sound doubtful. What else is bothering them?"
"They're scared. Afraid Sten will raid them next."
"No problem. Anders."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Hustle up some spare ships and troopies. I want all the major Imperial broadcasters ringed. I want a net a flea couldn't get through, okay?"
"Yessir. But, we don't have that many to spare. What with the budget cutbacks. And the heavy commitments to help stabi-lize our weaker allies. Then there's the garrison forces. We've got them spread all over—
" Find them, Anders. Just find them."
"Yessir."
"One other thing."
"Sir?"
"I'm not forgetting your fine Italian hand in this station foul-up."
"No sir. I take full responsibility, sir."
"Shut up, Anders. And while you're doing my bidding, I want you to think about a nice post I can send you to after this whole thing is over. An island, someplace. A cold island. And make it small, while you're at it. No more than a kilometer in any direction. Now, get busy."
"Uh... Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Walsh."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What's the status on the AM2 tax bill?"
"I'm not sure we have enough votes to carry Parliament, sir."
"What's the hangup?"
"The Back Benchers are arguing that the tax increase goes against your promise."
"Big deal. They break promises all the time. Why can't I? It goes with the territory. Which is politics. Which is nothing more than lies and damned lies."
"Yessir. But they don't feel the same now they've given up their independence. We offered AM2 at bargain-basement prices if they became Dominions of the Empire."
"Sure, I remember. I also remember that I'm the boy with the hand on the AM2 nozzle. I'm the sole supplier. Ergo, I get to set the price."
"Yessir. I know that, sir. It's the other members of Parliament. They say they've all got deficits that are choking them."
"Well, tell them they're going to have to join the club. Because that's why I've got to have my tax increase. My treasury is tapped out. Nary a bone in the cupboard. I can't believe those people. Clot, I'm the one with the whole burden. Without me, they've got zip. I figured six years of being under the thumb of the privy council would have proven that."
"True, Your Highness. But I've heard some whispers in the halls that maybe things weren't so bad, uh, when you, uh, were gone, and the privy council was running things."
"Don't worry about whispers in the hall... Kenna?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I want you to help Walsh on this."
"Delighted, sir. As always."
"I want Dusable behind me when it comes to a vote. I want a big push. And I want a bigger vote margin. Unanimous would be nice, but I'll settle for 99 percent."